Miss Scan Man
by Ennaejj
Summary: Chapter 16 up! Jack hooked up with some mercs out of Lupus Five... and they did exactly what they promised. Now she's a highly celebrated Scan Man, and she's going after a very special target... guess who...
1. Job On UV6

Author's Note: I relied only on the information given in PB and COR and their subsequent novelizations, and inconsistencies with any other media pertaining to Riddick's world is unfortunate, but will not be amended. Basically, Jack did hook up with mercs out of Lupus Five, but in this version they did what they promised to do. She learned the tricks of the trade and became a highly celebrated Scan Man. There are no Necros, but the assignment to pick up Riddick on UV6 did come from Helion Prime.

For those who are fans of No One Around, this is a little different. This is an action/adventure fic, but there may be some romance/sexual interplay later on between some characters. I haven't decided yet. If there is, I doubt it'll be explicit enough for me to change the rating. Where No One Around is "truthful" and adheres to the guidelines set by the movies, this one will tend to follow its own threads.

I don't really feel the need for the discretionary release of responsibility, i.e.,You can tell what's mine and what's not, other wise I don't think you'd be reading this. For fans by fans, after all.

R&R much appreciated!

**Chapter One**

**xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

The large violet sun hung low in the sky, making everything alive look oxygen starved. The ice flows reflected the purple light up and into the fem-merc's eyes, making it difficult to distinguish moving objects from stationary ones through the light sprinkle of snow. She pulled down her special made ski goggles, flipping on the heat sensitive screens. "Where are you, you bastard?" she mumbled through her half mask, scanning the horizon and near by ice crags. Nothing.

With a disappointed grunt of unverifiable expletives, she swirled around, sending the ice crystals clinging to her cloak flying. A silver hull was there to confront her. She signaled to the pilot to let her in. The ramp on the space craft extended complacently, and she jogged aboard.

Throwing her gatgun to the nearest crew member, she shrugged the fur cloak to the floor and shivered lightly. Pulling the mask down from her nose and mouth to pool around her neck, she confirmed, "No sign of any warm bodies for miles."

"You sure?" Asked the big man she'd forced her gun upon.

She shoved him aside, making her way up to the copilot's seat. "Yeah, I'm sure, Spooner."

"It's Spinner," he barked back.

"Whatever."

The pilot turned to the argumentative man, "You're new on the team, so I don't expect you to click right in, but there's one thing you should know. When Kyra here says it's clean, it's clean. She's the best Scan Man I've ever met, so tighten up that girdle and take a chair. We're jetting off."

"Not to far," warned the fourth member of the crew, a sassy red headed woman named Mitch.

"Yeah," Kyra nodded, "Just another half a quadrant. Not too far. Keep this nice and easy."

"Not hot and heavy?" quipped the pilot, cocky.

"We're only scanning right now. We don't need to get rough with the equipment."

"But that's just the way I like it," the pilot hissed, his voice deep and inviting. He arched his back a little, and glanced mischievously over at her.

"Cut it, Toombs," Kyra spat.

"Sure, sweet heart," he said, cracking a metal spotted smile. He retracted the landing gear and shifted up.

As they flew, Kyra's gaze grazed the surface through the windshield. She rested her forehead against the multiplex, hyper functioning glass. It was freezing cold and helped to soothe the headache that had suddenly decided to barrel into her.

"You all right, girl?" asked Mitch, slinking up to lean over the back of her chair, "You look flushed."

Kyra touched her cheeks. They were hot. "I'm fine. It's near twenty below out there, and I'm still dressed for it." She sat up, scooting to the edge of her seat. She leaned on her arm rest towards Toombs, "So do we get the guy's name yet, or are you still afraid we'll pull out?"

"Yeah," piped up Spinner, "Who's this guy with the mil-plus pay day?"

"You know I only agreed to come with out a name because you don't cop out on the splits," said Kyra, moving her booted foot near his leg, stroking the outside of his pants softly, encouraging him to cough up the info. She looked at Mitch with smirk, "Four way split is a four way split with Toombs. He'll never have to worry about mutiny that way."

"You know me," he said gruffly, relishing the feel of her tease, "It's the easiest way to make sure my ass is covered."

"Plus, he knows I gutted the last man who cheated me. And I wouldn't hesitated to do the same to him if he ever decided to slip a little extra into his own pocket. Right, Toombs?"

"That's also why I don't let her play with pointy objects while on board." He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing noticeably as she ran her foot higher. She leaned closer, her voice playfully seductive, "So who is it?"

"Old mate of yours."

She stopped her enticing trail up his calf. "Who?" she asked suspiciously.

He moved his leg away. "Riddick," he said simply, keeping his eyes glued to the horizon in front of them.

She lashed out, trying to kick him in the shin. Luckily he'd been prepared for that kind of a reaction and avoided the blow. "Are you trying to fuck with me? Because you know that's not funny!" She roughly brushed the wavy brown locks that had fallen into her eyes away from her face.

"Hey, hey!" he chanted at her.

"Cool it, girl," Mitch snapped, grabbing Kyra's shoulder and forcing her down into her seat.

"Riddick?" echoed Spinner, as if he were trying to recall where he'd heard that name before. "Didn't he... didn't he die or somethin'? In a crash?"

Kyra turned on him, sick of the dumb oaf's idiotic comments, "Die? On the Hunter Gratzner, you mean? You mean the Company ship that got pushed off course by a rogue comet? You mean the ship _I_ was on?"

"You were on that?"

"God in heaven, where did you pick this guy up?" she asked Toombs.

"Give it a rest, sweet heart. You're not as famous as you'd like to think you are." He decided to set her down. They'd traveled a good distance further and were now in a previously unexplored section. He unbuckled and stretched, straining his neck to turn around and peer at the man. "She's our little celebrity. Stay in the merc world long enough and you're bound to hear her name come up in a conversation or two. She's the only person who ever stood in Riddick's way and lived to brag about it." He glanced at her, flashing a patronizing smile, "For some reason she was special. He didn't cut her up and scatter the pieces. At least, not physically."

"You're an ass," she breathed at him, getting up to grab the cloak again. She strapped it on and wrenched her gun from Spinner. Shouldering it she asked Toombs, her back to him, "The target's Riddick?"

"Wouldn't have even considered taking the job without you. Because you're on board I figure we just upped our chances of survival fifty percent."

"Yeah? Well get out your calculator again. I think you figured wrong."


	2. Nice To See You Too

Author's Note: Here's a random thought that really doesn't have a thing to do with this story: We never found out exactly what it was that caused the Hunter Gratzner to crash, right? Well, what if it _was_ a rogue comet... a Necromonger comet? Just a thought.

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"Hey! Turn on your com this time," he recommended as she slid down the ramp. She flipped him off, but did as she was told. 

"Skank's got an attitude," chuckled Spinner, which earned him Mitch's elbow in his gut.

Kyra hugged herself against a violent gust of wind that roared around her. Once it died down she again flipped on the heat scanners. Immediately, something caught her eye. It was big, moving from right to left across her field of vision. It was much too tall to be a man, and lumbered across the land. She tapped her ear piece. "This thing on?"

"You're coming in loud and clear," responded Toombs.

"Okay, Doc-T. I got something. It's not Riddick. I think we found a Urzo." She rubbed her lenses, wiping away the melting snow flakes.

"Keep your distance, those big apes don't like to play nice."

"Roger that." She kept her eyes moving. When she saw him she'd know it. She'd never mistaken his form before. Granted, it had been nearly five years, but you don't forget a shape like that.

She wandered a little ways away, out of the protective cover of the craft.

"Stay in range," he warned.

There was a shallow rift in the ice not far behind the ship. A chill ran up her spine and rested in her brain stem. She knew it wasn't caused by the relentless weather. With one last cursory glance around her perimeter, she hustled back onto the ship. "He's near. I can feel it."

"Did you feel it, or are you expecting it now that you know who it is?"

"Look, we've got a history. I know that. It's not gonna cloud my judgment or my senses. The target's close, you get me?"

"I gotcha. All right people, let's suit up," he reached for his coat and mask. Their gear was ultra-arctic. It was light, yet impregnable by the cold. Kyra wrapped and extra length of rope around her, pulling it through her legs and encompassing her waist to form a kind of harness. She tied a few sound knots before winding the excess up and tucking it into her bet. As soon as the team was dressed and armed they high stepped it to the surface. They checked their man to man comlinks and spread out.

Kyra pointed them in front of the ship, while she snaked around back, towards the rift. "Keep on your toes," she whispered hoarsely. She could be heard perfectly by her companions, but her mask kept the sound from traveling to any hidden ears. "I'm gonna try and draw him out. Watch me and be ready to spring." Spinner turned to stare at her. "No!" She rolled her eyes, "Turn around! Be _aware_ of me, don't ogle."

As they went about their business, putting on a convincing search act, she casually laid her weapon against the landing gear and stretched. She strolled a bit, keeping to the lip of the crack. She paused, putting her back to it. She widened her stance a little and held her hands in close to her belly, running her gloved fingers over her thumbs. _Come on. Come on. I know you're there. come and get me,_ she silently taunted.

Her intuition hadn't lied to her. He was there all right. He was right below her, standing on a ledge that jutted out of the wall six feet down. He had slipped down there when he heard the merc ship approaching. He silently cursed them. He had been hunting the urzo giganticus when they decided to flutter in. There went his meat.

His long, ice encrusted dread locks were tied back so as not to interfere with his vision. He wore layer after layer of urzo skin, which insulated him rather well against the harsh cold. His old rubber boots were tucked snugly into a pair of cleaned out urzo feet. This so called 'deviant footwear' came in handy while hunting; because of them he left only urzo tracks.

His goggles worked like magic against the encroaching sun. He looked up at the clearly feminine form above and licked his chapped lips. She was so close, it would be so easy...

_Come on. Go for the sweet spot. You want to, I know it. Come on,_ she set her jaw.

He slipped a curved shiv silently from a carefully concealed sheath.

_Come on big boy,_ she was becoming impatient, _Damn it, let's go!_

_She's nervous_, he though, stilling himself. _She knows I'm here._

She began to second guess herself, _Riddick..._

He crouched lower, scraping the blade against the ice shelf. He'd wait, wait for her to shift just right, then he'd strike.

Suddenly she dove for the gat, and he knew it was now or never. He pushed off, springing high into the air, clearing her doubled over body completely. Now he was in front of her. She turned to stone. She had to be careful. The harsh light caught the metal dagger, and a glint hit her eye. Swiftly, she pulled the rope's end out of her belt, threw it around one of the ship's legs, then forced a slip knot. He came at her and she rotated, diving head first into the crevice.

After a moment she latched onto the rope, halting her fall. She yanked herself up right.

He leaned over the edge, watching her go down and down before jerking to a stop. His clawed foot put a strain on the ice, and a few pieces broke off to rain down on her. He kneeled, taking up her safety line and laying it across his lap. He pushed the serrated edge of his blade up firmly against it, ready to saw through. The fall wouldn't kill her, it wasn't that deep, but she wouldn't be able to make it out on her own. She'd be trapped. Unless her buddies decided to help her out...

Buddies. She wouldn't have come alone.

He spun around just in time. There was Mitch on her knees, aiming a high powered gat directly at him. He rolled out of the way and the net flew across the gap, skidding across the slick surface of the other side.

When Kyra saw it fly over head she knew it was time to climb up. It took her a minute to reach the top, but soon she was on her feet again, ready to join the fray. Positions had changed since she'd last been in the game. The three others were moving in, forming a fastly tightening half circle around their quarry. Riddick's back was to her, moving precisely along the rift. She could take advantage of this.

She mentally measured the distance between her and her abandoned gun, the gun and Riddick, and she and he. With experience-bread stealth, she slithered on her hands and knees towards the gatgun. Her eyes revolved at a sickening pace in their sockets, trying to keep tabs on everything at once. Soon she had to focus solely on the gun or she'd get no where. When she was close enough she reached for it, wrapping her fingers firmly around the grip.

She didn't hear him coming.

She felt a large, cold weight press down in the middle of her back. In an instant her head snapped back, tugged up by the massive digits wrapped in her hair. Then a knife was at her throat. The freezing metal stung her skin. "Don't move," he growled softly.

The team could see what was happening, clear as day, and lowered their weapons.

When they had been together, all those years ago when she was a kid, she'd never been afraid of him. He'd never purposefully tried to frighten her, either. He was cool and collected, and if that scared the crap out of some people, so be it. His somber attitude was a facade she'd aspired to reflect for some time, until that day she had been able to see right through the bullshit. She vowed never to play his games again after that, when she saw what being Big Evil was really all about.

_No, Riddick,_ she refused, _I won't take orders from you._

Plain for him to see, so he wouldn't pull the plug on her just yet, she moved her hand up to her mask with leisure. Gradually, she drew it down, away from her features. She then tilted her head to the side, so she could catch a glimpse of him, and he of her.

"Riddick?" she said, soft and small like a child, adding a slight tremor for effect.

She had caught him completely off guard. As soon as he realized who it was he had under him he hesitated. Toombs saw an opportunity and took it. In a flash his gun was up, poised to fire. He shot. The net opened wide on its way to Riddick, ready to embrace him like a horny octopus.

The impact of it forced him off of Kyra's back. She threw her feet under her and scrambled to his side, hauling her heavy gun along. He was laying on his face, and with a grunt tried to rise. "Nice to see you too, bastard," she carped, slamming the butt of her weapon into the base of his scull.

* * *

Author's Note: Like a horny octopus? I have no idea where that simile came from, but I though it was amusing. So... tell me what you think of this chapter, please. 


	3. Smooth

**Chapter Three**

* * *

The two men managed to drag their unconscious prisoner aboard the ship. Kyra and Spinner gagged him immediately. He couldn't ride all the way with his winter cloths on, so the lot of them went to work removing his painstakingly acquired outer layers. Kyra refused to help strip him. However, she did insist on being the one to chain him into his VIP travel chair, again with Spinner's assistance. Toombs settled himself up front, preparing the computer for take off. "We got 'em. Quick and clean," he said proudly.

"You are such a shit, Toombs," Kyra gritted through her teeth, strolling up beside him and taking a hand hold over head. "That's _Riddick._ Where do you get off thinking you can drag me-"

"I know you got gripe with him. Looks like I did you a favor. Now you two can settle up, or shoot it up, whichever." He flipped a switch and grabbed the controls to hold her steady, waiting for the ship to settle into auto. The dash mechanisms sighed contentedly, and he let go.

"Did me a _favor_?"

"You gonna strap in, or what? Atmosphere was pretty bumpy coming in."

She plopped down next to him and the others buckled up in the back. "Toombs, I swear, if this wasn't the biggest friggin' pay day I've ever picked up-"

"Cut the yappin'. You're pissed. Screw it," he said, shrugging it off.

"Screw it! Jack ass! If you weren't the only man here who could fly the ship I'd fillet your backside. You have no idea... You just pushed it on me, didn't even give me a chance to get used to the idea of going after him."

"You're the one who said it wasn't affecting your judgment."

"No crap?" She gestured frantically at the back of the craft, "And apparently I was right. That is him in the back with the shiny new bit in his mouth, is it not?"

"You two wanna clam up?" asked Mitch curtly, "Quit your bitching, the both of you."

"Shut up," Kyra heaved. They had no idea what she was going through.

He had been her idol, her accidental savior, her fantasy. She was thirteen and he was her everything.

They hadn't parted happily. That was an understatement. They had parted horribly, and she was definitely one to hold a grudge. In fact, his departure was the reason she was where she was now. If things had been different, if he had left at any other time than when he did... _Bastard. Surprised he even remembered me at all._

Riddick stirred. His head was hanging limply in front of him, putting an ungracious strain on his neck. He tried to shift his jaw and felt his teeth scrape against something hard and smooth. With out moving his head, he lifted his eyes up behind his goggles. Four mercs. He'd been taken down by a four man team. Shit, if that wasn't a blow to the ego.

He mentally berated himself. _It wasn't even her. You know it wasn't her._

With a jolt they broke out into space. "Time to rejoin the mother ship?" asked Spinner.

They all ignored him. It was a stupid question, after all. Of course they were. They were on course to intercept a merc cruiser. There they'd gas up and bask in a few comforts before bringing their charge to the planet the bounty had come from.

Mitch undid her restraints and pulled along the cealing to the rear of the ship. She then braced herself against an inner partition and stared at the con. "So this is him?" she asked quietly.

"How is Master Blaster?" Toombs cackled.

"Looks like he's out cold," she replied.

Kyra chewed the inside of her lip and didn't say anything.

Mitch double checked his bonds, then placed herself right in front of him, crouching down so she could see his face. His expression was grotesque, painted in a ghastly grimace around the bit. Her reflection peered back at her from his black lenses. She made a face. Kyra had mentioned once that he had a shine. Pursing her lips, she gently lifted the goggles to his forehead. Cold silver eyes glared back at her. Startled, she fell backwards.

He lifted his head, twisting it harshly from side to side so that it popped and cracked.

Toombs turned around to see the woman scrambling to her feet, and the prisoner wide awake. "Didn't I tell you not to tease the animals?" he jibed at her.

Kyra was tempted to turn and look, but didn't. A strange fear halted her. She wasn't sure what she'd see. She had never meant to confront Riddick like this. It had been years since she'd considered the possibility of actually confronting him at all. She hated it when the past just wouldn't stay in the past. She shrank into her seat.

"Lover boy's up," Toombs informed her quietly.

"Bite me," she mumbled back.

"Gladly."

She shot him a look. He shook his head, silently saying, _You know I had to. _She sighed, trying to slip back into her own thoughts.

They secured themselves for a short trip at supralight speed. It took them less than an hour to arrive at their destination. Toombs docked expertly.

The other three each scooped up a hand gun or two, while Kyra retrieved a dirk from her boot. She held it flat against her chest, attempting to quail her flustered heart. Her breathing was tempered, and her lips parted with the effort. This wasn't like her. She was one to confront things head on. Her fingers started to tingle, and she knew she couldn't stay huddled in her seat much longer. She heard Riddick being pulled from his place, and new mobile bindings being clamped onto him.

Mitch was out of the craft and down the ramp first. "Kyra," Toombs called, hardy noticing that she had failed to rise as of yet, "You bring up the rear."

She sucked her bottom lip and nodded. When she heard the tell-tale, thick clink-clink of the large-linked chains rumble down the ramp she finally brought herself to move. From the door she watched his decent carefully. When they had undressed him he had been left in nothing but his black tank, matching cargo pants, and all purpose boots. The same outfit he had left in. Go figure. Not that Riddick had ever had much of a varying wardrobe, but it was unsettling to her just the same.

His shoulders rolled, stretching the best they could. She blinked, trying to force her gaze in a new direction, needing to focus on the task at hand. Toombs should have told her. Jobs were never supposed to be personal. You go after some one you know, chances are it will end badly for the both of you. She had to focus. _Pretend he's some one else,_ she told herself. _Sure, I can do that, no problem._ Who was she kidding? There was no use trying to trick herself into subscribing to something like that.

"Yo, Kyra!" Toombs yelled from the bottom, taking his place on Riddick's right, "You coming, or what?"

"Yeah, yeah. No problem."

"Let's hope not."

She stomped up behind the con, poking her dirk's tip into his lower back. The spot where the blade's point lay was no accident. Just left of the spine, fourth lumbar down...

_...The abdominal aorta_, Riddick noted.

"Move it," she growled in his ear.

"Where's this guy going?" asked the docking guard.

"As of now, max security cell. This one, he's a real hot ticket," Toombs cackled, smacking the man in the chest.

"Yeah, all right," he motioned for them to move along. He was used to seeing mercs exaggeratedly chipper after making a coveted capture.

They wound through the halls of the ship and onto an elevator. Spinner punched the button marked 'deck three.'

Riddick was buying his time, taking on the role of model prisoner. His hands and legs were cuffed. Several chains connected these limbs together, as well as to a manacle around his waist. They had also found it necessary to collar him; Mitch held the leash. His mouth ached. The bit was rubbing his gums raw. He ran his tongue along the length of the bar, attempting to concentrate on its sharp taste rather than the irritation.

The elevator car glided into place, and the doors swished open. Kyra jabbed him between the shoulder blades with the heal of her palm, urging him to step out. Three more guards greeted them, then led them to the end of an empty cell block. One man handed Toombs a note with a combo printed on it.

Riddick was man handled into the cell. His chains were removed, but only briefly so that they could be reconfigured, then secured to the far wall. A bear cot was all the room had for furnishings. Unfortunately, Riddick's shackles prevented him from sitting. No one bothered taking away the bit before sliding the bars into place and switching on the laser and plasmatic screens.

The fem-merc who he had taken for Jack stood outside of his cell while he was dealt with. She was leaning against what could be most accurately described as the cell's door jamb, so all he could see was her arm dangling rigidly beside her, a lock of chestnut hair, and a bit of hip. He wanted to see her face again, so he could take it in and prove to himself that it wasn't her.

When the guards gave him the thumbs up, Toombs took the time to pat his comrades on the back. Pulling them into a huddle, "This is the biggest pay day ever," he purred lowly. "I think we've earned ourselves a drink. Everybody to the mess hall. We're gonna feel it in the morning!"

They broke. Spinner and Mitch practically skipped away. Kyra moved to follow, but Toombs caught her elbow from behind. "Hey," he said softly, pulling her to the wall directly opposite Riddick's cell.

He could easily see the two of them, even though the screens made their forms look a bit grainy. She was profile now, but it wasn't good enough, he needed to see her head on. It was dim on the block, which was just fine with him. Besides having an okay visual vantage point, he could also hear them. After all, plasmatic screens could stop a six hundred pound animal from ramming through, but it couldn't hold back simple sound waves.

"Let go, Doc," she requested, tugging herself away from him. He relinquished his hold on her arm, but grabbed onto her shoulders instead. She could feel his chest pressed firmly against her back, his breathing deep. She knew what he was thinking.

"You've been one moody bitch since we got him aboard, you know that?" he murmured against her hair.

"Toombs..." she warned.

"I've been tryin' to tell you," he continued, grazing his lips over the smooth strands, "Let it go." He ran his fingers up and down her upper arms, "You need to relax, sweet heart. Go with the flow."

She didn't have the energy to fight him off at the moment. And being in front of Riddick some how made Toombs' advances more embarrassing than aggravating. All she could bring herself to do was protest. "Get off me," she snarled, her arm twitching.

One hand trailed its way to the base of her neck, kneading it softly, "You're too tense." He openly took in a whiff of her sent. Deliberately, he cleared the hair away from her ear. Blowing lightly on its crest, he insisted, "Lemme take the bastard off your mind. Just for a little while."

He pressed more of himself into her, then slid his fingers under her loose shirt to squeeze the top of her hip. That was all she could take. She roughly tore herself away. "I said no."

He raised his hands in an amused mock surrender, "Your loss, and you know it."

"Go screw yourself," she said in disgust, stomping away.

"I intend to," he retorted.

_Smooth, Toombs,_ Riddick smirked, _Real smooth.

* * *

_

Author's Note: Riddick doesn't nesisarly think that it's him Toombs is refring to here at the end of the chapter. He could be talking about Spinner. Remember, Riddick's not convinced she's who he thought she was. Thanks for all the reveiws so far, keep 'em coming! 


	4. Capturing The Combo

**Chapter Four**

**xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Kyra went to bed early. It seemed that several merc teams had had a good run that evening, so the whole hall was bumping. There was even a live band blaring. Normally she was one to party with the best of them after a good smash and grab, but not this time. She left Spinner drooling in his sleep at the bar, and Toombs and Mitch grinding to the music in the center of the floor. She grabbed herself one last beer before scurrying off.

Feeling a bit tipsy, she staggered into the bunk room she shared with Mitch without turning the lights on. She plopped down on the bottom bunk, only vaguely aware that her's was actually the top. A few more swigs from the bottle didn't help her think any more clearly. She wanted to drown the inner conflict, and if she couldn't do that at least she'd eventually pass out.

She emptied the bottle, then tossed it aside. Rubbing her eyes, she bent over, rolling her shoulders forward. She knew it would be best to sleep it off, unconsciousness was the only escape from her emotional battle.

Clumsily, she managed to climb to the top bunk and under the covers. She stared at the ceiling for a long moment, hoping she would drift off quickly. Unfortunately, her lids weren't ready to fall. She flipped onto her stomach, nuzzling the pillow. Still, she could not get to sleep.

Three hours later she was still awake. Soon she heard voices out side the door, a man and a woman. The man laughed loudly, then a brief silence followed before they started again. When the door began to open, Kyra propped herself up on one elbow to see.

Mitch glided half way in, prevented from entering completely by her male accompaniment. She giggled softly and bumped the door, forcing it wider. Not surprisingly, there was Toombs, attacking her neck with his rough lips. "No, no," she laughed, half heartedly trying to push him away, "No, T. Bad boy."

lifting his head, he growled drunkenly, a wide, devilish smile splitting his face.

"Mitch." Kyra said sharply.

She jumped, turning to see her room mate all ready in bed, "I thought you found yourself a friend. Didn't expect-" She grinned as Toombs again dipped to kiss her shoulder.

"Kick the dick out and shut the door," Kyra commanded, "You're letting all the light in."

"Aw, don't send me away, baby," he said snidely, pushing in to speak to her. "The night's still young, and the offer still stands."

"Get. Out." _Pig._

"Then I'll see you ladies tomorrow," he tipped an imaginary hat, then went else where to find his fun.

"God, girl," Mitch said, curling up her lip as she shut the door, "You really do know how to rain on a parade. I was hoping to see a little action tonight."

Kyra lay back down and threw the pillow over her head, crushing it to her ears. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that," she said into the mattress.

Mitch was pulling on her night clothes, "What was that?"

With a frustrated sigh, she sat up. "Not with Toombs..."

Braiding her red locks, she shrugged, "Why not?"

"You've had too much to drink." She pulled a blanket over her face, realizing she hadn't changed before jumping into bed.

"So says the Queen of Shots." Mitch climbed under her covers.

"Didn't have any tonight, not that you would have noticed. You were too busy letting Toombs feel you up. Speaking of which, I'll wait until morning."

"For what?" she asked with a yawn.

"For you to thank me. Something tells me you wouldn't be too happy waking up with him _and_ a hang over."

"Fuck you," she said sleepily, snuggling into the blankets.

"Love you too, sweetie."

With in minutes Mitch's high pitched snores could be heard. That didn't help Kyra's sudden-onset insomnia.

The room was too warm, so she kicked her covers to the wall. Then she was too cold. Thinking she'd put on some proper PJ's, she hopped down. Mitch rolled over, but didn't wake.

She rifled through her pack, but her mind was too hazy for her to identify a T-shirt and men's boxers. She leaned against the wall, rolling her head back and forth before focusing on the ceiling once again. It was no use. As long as _he_ occupied the majority of her conscious thought, her unconscious would never be able to take hold.

So she made up her mind. It was time for a conference.

There was one problem. She didn't want to wander up to his cell, pour her heart out, then skip back to bed. No, she wanted him to do most of the talking. The bit might make that difficult. She had to actually get into the cell with him to remove it. She shivered at the thought, but knew it had to be done. And in order to get into the cell, she needed the combo... which Toombs was the keeper of.

Perfect.

She yanked open the door and trotted down the hall to his room, which he had all to himself. She put her ear to the crack between the door and the molding. No sound came from within. Cautiously, she pushed in. The lights were out, and the bed was free. The bathroom was open, and the lights were off in there as well.

Thanking God for her good fortune, she began rummaging around, searching for the scrap of paper the guard had given him. She was in a hurry, but was careful to put everything back where she found it. She went through his bags, the drawers in the dresser, the desk, the closet, even the cabinets in the bathroom. Out of options, she dropped to her hands and knees to sweep her arm under the bed.

Just then, the lights flipped on.

Luckily, the bed shielded her from the hall way.

A group of men were right out side, trying to persuade Toombs to join a poker game. "Nah, nah. Not exactly the kind of tumble I was looking to get tonight." He swiftly shut them out. He let loose a dissatisfied kick into his pack.

Kyra retracted her arm, but stayed low. She was in the pot now. The only way she could escape with out being seen was if: A. Toombs flopped down on the bed and was out before his head hit the pillow, or, B. He was too smashed to realize there was another human being in the room while going about his business. Some how, she didn't think that either of those possibilities would manifest themselves.

So she did the next best thing. Rather than waiting to be caught, she revealed herself. She sat down, with her back up against the bed she threw her arms around one knee, and said, "No whores aboard?"

He jumped in surprise. He rounded the bed to stand beside her. Looking down on her, he mumbled, "What are... what are you doing?" He sniffed dryly, struggling to open his eyes wide enough to stare at her properly.

She stood rapidly, making him sway. She stepped into him, "I'm looking for something."

"I'm sure you are," he purred, snaking an arm around her waist.

She grabbed his wrist and removed it, digging her nails into his flesh. "Not that."

"Why else would a beautiful, hard ass like your self be sitting in here, waiting, in the dark for me?" He leaned closer, thinking maybe he'd get his sheets twisted after all.

She placed her hand firmly on his chest, holding him a respectable distance away. He smelled like beer, but that was no big deal, so did she. "I want the combo to the max cell."

He stepped away, strolling to the bathroom. He turned on the sink and splashed some cool water over his face. "Couldn't find it any where?" he asked, wiping off his face with a hand towel. He came back to her, his pupils a little more focused. "He's tied to the biggest check on this tin can. You really think I'd leave the combo lying around for some one to scoop up? Honey, no one's gonna jack my prisoner."

She held out one hand, the other rested on her hip in a fist, "Give it to me."

From a vest pocket he pulled out the small scrap, "You mean this?"

She tried to take it, but he held it up out of her reach. She wasn't about to play games with him. He got off on that sort of thing. "Fine," she pivoted to leave, "I don't need it."

"Don't need it?" he scoffed, "This is your last chance to be alone with him. Sure, tomorrow you'll see him. You'll get the whole ride to Helion Prime to bitch him out." He approached her, laid a hand on her shoulder from behind, and tauntingly waved the paper in front of her eyes. "But if you want a genuine heart to broken heart, now is all you get."

She went for it again, and he pulled it away. "I'll give it to you," he said simply.

She turned around, "Then hand it over."

"-But I want something first," he added slyly.

She ground her teeth, "Okay..." she said slowly, ready to slam down the first thing he suggested.

"Kiss me."

She snorted, "No."

"That's my offer. A kiss for this. Take it," he put the paper away, "Or leave it."

She tossed it over in her mind. _Give the man a little of what he wants, and he'll give you a little back._ The question was, did she want the combo more than she didn't want Toombs? The answer? _Yes._ "You are so gross," she said with a sigh.

Resting her hand on his collar bone, she raised herself up to kiss him. She tried to be tender, but found it more than difficult. His drunken mouth hungrily moved against hers. He caught her by the back of the neck, holding her so she couldn't pull away. Brushing his tongue over her lips, he walked her backwards until she was pinned between his body and the door. She was confident she could stop him if he went too far, so she didn't protest. He attempted to coax her mouth open, and eventually she gave in. Immediately his eager tongue slithered inside, urging her to respond. Reluctantly, she did. As long as he was happy he'd give up the goods. She flicked her own tongue teasingly in and out of his mouth.

He closed his eyes and let a thick moan slide from his throat. As an answer, she whimpered, and was startled by its needy sound.

She twisted her head to the side, demanding air and deciding she'd given up enough to satisfy him. "Now give it to me," she said weakly, not meeting his hot gaze.

He kissed her jaw line, "Sure you wouldn't rather stay with me?"

"Toombs..." she raised her volume ominously.

"All right," he nodded his consent and backed away, "All right." He took out the slip and handed it to her. She ripped it away.

"You realize it's your personality that's the turn off, right?" she informed him. Wresting the door open, she tripped into the hall and stalked away towards the elevator.

**xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Author's Note: Poor Kyra, I'm putting her through a lot. In case you were worried you'd only be witnessing K/T stuff, I do intend to slip in some K/R later on ;-)


	5. Hurting You, Hurting Me

Author's Note: I wish there was some form of punctuation that was half way between a period and an exclamation point. That's the place Riddick's tone lies when he's angry. Don't forget to tell me what you think when you're done reading this chap. :-)

**Chapter Five**

* * *

She chewed her thumb nail absently as the car rose. The soft ding that sounded as the elevator settled on the third deck brought her blank stare into focus. The double doors slid back, and she was immediately confronted by a pair of armed guards. "I just wanna see my prisoner," she told them, her voice stale. 

The only light on the floor came from a lamp near by, illuminating their makeshift camp. "Pilot's name, your name and title, and prisoner's name, all as listed in the manifest you provided when docking," one droned, laying out the standard procedure.

"Pilot is J. Toombs. I'm Kyra Recro, copilot and Scan Man. Prisoner is Richard B. Riddick."

"Purpose for visit?"

She scoffed, "Why is that any of your business?"

He smiled innocently and shrugged, "Just curious."

She brushed past him, not in the mood to indulge cage keepers. The two men returned to the game of chess that she had interrupted.

Her determined steeps gradually slowed and lost tenacity as she approached the end of the block. She stopped all together a few cells away. She looked down at the sheet of paper in her hand like it held the zip code to Hell. Struggling to keep her heat beat steady, she wadded it up and touched it to her lips as if it were a string of rosary beads.

She squared her shoulders and continued on. A few more measured steps found her peering in to the dark cell. She caught a glint of animal eye shine. Holding back a cold tremor, she drew herself against the bars. He wasn't looking at her, but she could feel his awareness of her presence. His head was tilted towards the floor, as if he had been trying to sleep.

She held her breath as she punched in the code to unlock his cell and null the screens. As she slid the bars to the side, the laser and plasmatic screens flickered out. He stood up straight.

He focused first on her mouth. That little mouth that used to like to talk so much, asking him so many questions and echoing so many expletives. Then her nose, small and round. Her eyes, the same foggy expression masking their sharpness like he remembered. Her eyebrows, her cheeks, her ears, her chin... All mature and womanly, but still so familiar. It was her. All of it.

But how could it be? He choked down the confusion that bubbled up within, threatening to gag him.

He displayed nothing but dogged indifference as she approached him. She bit her lip, trying to make her functions quit fluttering. _Behave_, she chided her heart and lungs,_ You're embarrassing me._ Mustering up a decent bout of determination, she slid her hands behind his head to undo the latch that held the bit in place.

She wouldn't look him in they eye, and yet he tried to capture her gaze. He was convinced that if he could only see into them, everything would be explained and fall into place. But she continued to refuse him that window into her being.

She was so close to him. If she had been a lesser woman she might have cried, or fainted, or hit him, or screamed. But she was Kyra, and Kyra was strong. His hot breath tumbled across her neck in plumes, and the perpetual growl of his breathing made her swallow harshly. His smell was heady, and so remarkably male. It clouded her head more so than the alcohol in her system.

His stony gaze made her nervous. She felt more vulnerable at the moment than she ever had in front of any vulgar convict she'd chained. Suddenly she was very aware of her curves and felt awkward in her own skin. She couldn't get her fingers to work properly, they fumbled again and again before she had the latch open.

She pulled the bit out slowly, trying not to hurt him. As soon as it was free of his lips she took a giant step in reverse, happy to be able to put space between them.

He popped his stiff jaw, shifting it from side to side until the ache went away. For a long while they didn't say anything, just stared at each other. Her fingers twitched, and she buried them deep in her pockets, stifling the sudden urge to slap him.

Finally, she turned her back on him, holding onto the cell bars for support. "I came looking for you," she said, more roughly than she'd intended. When he didn't respond, she whirled around, "And that's not the best part. I found you. I trailed you to Lupus Five. I saw you there, at night. It was raining and you were standing in an ally way, looking up between the buildings at the sky. I hid behind a trash bin so you wouldn't see me. I watched your face, saw how you stared at those stars. All you wanted to do was get off the ground." She turned around again, not wanting to watch him. He was dead, unreadable, like she was talking to a statue. His lack of obvious emotion made her furious. "I saw on your face exactly why you left me. I saw the truth.

"When I first stepped into that side street I was so relieved. I was ready to jump out and hug you, to show you that I'd changed my mind. But that look held me back. You were so..." she clenched her jaw, and forced the words through her teeth, "Happy. Then I realized: It was all an act. You made me believe you cared when you really didn't give a shit about the brat you left behind. All you wanted was your freedom.

"So I left. I left and I cried. Poor little girl, out on the streets, balling her eyes out. And then- oh, and then..." She looked over her shoulder, a wicked smile twisting her lips. "Then I wanted to hurt you. After the tears I was mad, I was steaming. I wanted to beat the crap out of you, tear you down and rattle your foundation. Of course, Jack couldn't do that. She was a weak little urchin. She couldn't cut it. And now she's dead," she shrugged frankly, "Jack's long gone Riddick, you made me kill her."

His eyes darted to the side, lifting from her for the first time. He pursed his lips, keeping quiet so that she would be forced to continue, forced to explain it all.

She paused and clamped her mouth shut, realizing she was doing exactly what she'd promised herself she wouldn't. She was spilling her guts when he was supposed to be spouting his. She began wandering around the cell, waiting for him to take up the conversation. The silence was tense. Both of them felt edgy, as if they were standing exposed in the middle of a thunder storm.

Soon she couldn't stand his mute act any longer, and found herself face to face with him, demanding he say something, anything, "You gonna tell me I'm wrong? You wanna tell me again that you left to protect me?"

"Jack-" he whispered lowly.

"Don't call me that," she snapped. "The name's Kyra now," she glared at him, "And I'm a new animal."

"You could have come with me. I told you that," he said gruffly, his undertone challenging her to deny it.

"You were asking me to say no, Riddick. You didn't have to go anywhere. Every one thought you and I were dead. We were safe. I was a scared kid, you knew you couldn't drag me from one side of the galaxies to the other. I needed you, and at the worst possible moment you decided it was time to fly. You said you'd take care of me. That was a bald faced lie!"

"I did," he stated. "I wanted to..." he trailed off as she began shaking her head.

"I can't believe you. What are you trying to pitch? That you had my scrawny ass covered from half way across the universe? You _didn't_ take care of me, and you never intended to."

She ran her tongue over her teeth, "And now look at me. The next day I high tailed it to the nearest space port and found myself a pack of mercs. I hooked right up with them. They signed me on, said they'd teach me the trade. It was the worst day of my life, the day I took off with them. Take a stab at why I went looking for mercs. Come on, I bet you can make a guess," she heckled.

He didn't make a sound.

"Yep, that's right," she smiled painfully, "I did it because you hate mercs more than anything else in this entire 'verse. I wanted to hurt you. Every time I made a capture I pictured the look on your face when you found out it was me who grabbed 'em. Kurt Seagull, that was me. John Ratchet, me. Claudia S. Don, me too. And now I've made the biggest kill of them all, Richard B. Riddick."

She stepped back, throwing her arms melodramatically wide, "So, did I succeed? Did I do my job? Did I hurt you? Or do you still _just not care_?" she punctuated the last three words, throwing all of her accumulated disappointment into them.

He rolled his tongue in his mouth, it felt thick and sticky. "She signed with mercs," he mumbled to himself.

She snorted, tossing her head like a haltered pony, "There was nobody else around."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he asked, his voice dangerously low and grainy.

Her lip quivered, but no tears threatened to appear, "Because you didn't want me," she said airily, begging him to admit it.

He lunged forward at her, straining as far as he could, "Remember who you're talking to."

"I'll never forget that," she barked, "Never."

He relaxed minimally, sucking on the inside of his cheek to steady his anger.

"Suppose I should be thanking you," she said contemptuously. "Now I'm helping lock up killers like you instead of tagging along behind them."

"You joined the same fake badges that wanted to cut you up and use you for bate!" He snarled.

"Quit your preaching." Her pitch dropped, "They were there for me. They took your place. They gave me what you never could." When she spoke again it was sluggish and almost inaudible, "Mercs, Riddick. Goddamn mercs." She lugged the bars open, ready to leave.

"You'll never make it to the next system with me still in cuffs," he calmly informed her.

She bowed her head and couldn't prevent herself from smiling slightly inspite of her frustration, "Yeah, I know."


	6. Lust

Author's Note: Thought I'd twist things up a little, giving Jack the choice to go with him or not. Now, hmm, do you think she really said no because she was scared of the great wide world out there? Me thinks there was a different reason... So why did she go looking for him? We'll see...

**Chapter Six

* * *

**

Surreality was not something Riddick encountered very often, but now it was grinding into him from all sides. First his inexplicably easy capture, now Jack. Jack who wasn't Jack. "Kyra," he murmured, testing it on his lips. He tilted his chin up and closed his eyes, "Kyra." 

She'd always been perceptive, never mistaking the tone in his voice or the meaning of his movements. It still rang true. When he had asked her to come, he _had_ been asking her to stay. When he had watched the night sky on Lupus Five, he _had_ been happy. She'd seen the truth. But what she hadn't been able to see were the reasons.

He'd never lied to her. He was taking care of her the best way he knew how. He wanted her to have every thing she needed, and be free of all she didn't. She didn't need him. He was wrong for her, damaging to her. The moment he realized that, he had to leave.

He remembered that day clearly. There she was, torn shirt, split lip, her small hands speckled with some one else's blood, looking so high-minded and swollen with pride. Then he knew.

She'd gotten into a fight on the street. An older boy had been teasing her. She said she had done her best to ignore him, but when he shoved her in the chest and realized it wasn't another boy he was taunting, he really began to rag on her. Calling her names, asking her if she liked girls. Finally she let him have it. It took three swipes to bring him down. She broke his nose, cracked his knee cap, and smashed his groin.

The way she smiled as she relayed the tale, examining her tainted knuckles and battle wounds, had shaken him. What she'd done didn't bother her in the least, on the contrary, she liked it. It gave her a sense of power. She licked her lips steadily while rubbing at the red stains with her thumb, delighted that they smeared like war paint. The fog in her eyes cleared, and a sourness took its place. He saw the potential for blood lust. It made him feel sick.

He'd never before seen a child's face contort in such satisfaction after breaking another child.

He knew it was he who had inspired such a mating of violence and lack of conscience within her. He had to leave while she still had a chance.

But now she was a filthy merc. Was that any better? He batted his eyes at the irony.

_And that's why you should steer clear of people,_ he told himself, _Every life you touch you fuck up._

By the time some one came to his cell again, he'd been standing for all most twelve hours straight. His legs had begun to tingle relentlessly.

"You sure you want to do this?" came a woman's voice.

"Yeah, I'm sure." It was Kyra.

"Okay. But I'm telling you, it's not a good idea to un-anchor him while there's a knife in the room."

"I'll be fine," she insisted blandly.

"Just be sure you don't loose him."

"Have I lost one yet?"

Both women appeared. Kyra was holing a silver wash bowl, towel, and a minimally curved blade. Mitch opened the cell, then slid the bars into place once Kyra was inside. Kyra placed the items on the cot and began unchaining him from the wall. "You can go now," she told Mitch.

"Toombs said I should stay."

"I think you should go."

"Hey, he didn't have to let you groom the beast, so I don't-"

"Mitch!" Kyra said sharply, "Just go."

"Fine." She swaggered off, irritated.

Kyra was careful to make sure his hands were perfectly immobile before pushing him to the bed. She sat behind him, her legs criss-crossed so that she wouldn't have to straddle his hips. She let down his matted hair, which he had let grow around his goggles. She calmly hacked the shades free, pulled them completely off, then laid them beside her. The bowl was half filled with sudsy water. She dipped the knife into it, then meticulously began to shave the dreads away. He held perfectly still. When she was finished she patted his clean scull down with the towel.

That was the easy part, now onto the beard. She took her equipment to the floor. She went down on her knees in front of him. She pushed his legs as far apart as they could go being shackled, so that she could get close enough to do a proper job. laying her hand on the back of his neck, she brought him even closer. The blade was sharp and ran smoothly over his skin, sending the gnarled strands to the floor with ease.

Tilting his head back so that she could get beneath this chin, she drew herself up further, bringing them unsuitably nearer still. As she scraped his throat, her hands began to twitch. _Easy girl,_ he hushed, _Let's not slice anything vital._

She finally dropped the blade into the basin and ran her fingers over his newly exposed face. There was the Riddick she remembered.

With a muddled sigh, she started to stand. He promptly clamped his thighs tight around her middle. It didn't surprised her. "Riddick, let me go," she commanded mildly.

"Talk to me."

She tried to squirm free, but couldn't manage it. "I think I said enough last night."

"You didn't tell me why you changed your mind and decided to come after me."

"I would have thought that was obvious. Let go."

He relinquished his grip, and she scampered away. "Why?" he persisted.

"We're leaving soon," she said, ignoring him. She nudged him to his feet, then reattached him to the wall.

"You mind?" he asked, nodding at the cot.

She bent, gently winding her fingers around the goggles. They were light, and the rubber was warm. She'd playfully imagined steeling them from him once, back in the day. He'd fallen asleep beside her bed. She hadn't seen him for much of that day, and when he returned he had been abnormally exhausted. She'd tugged him into the bedroom to show him- something, she couldn't remember now- and he'd suddenly dozed off. She took off her own goggles and compared them to his. His were better. She considered swapping the two, but knew he'd wake up when she touched him.

Now Riddick leaned forward, baring his bald head to her. She ran her fingertips over his scalp. Before she could place the band around his cranium, he asked again, "Why?"

With a smug smile, she withdrew. Taking up the bowl and dropping the towel into it, she said, "Maybe I'll hang onto these." She yanked them on. They fit snugly due to her thick hair.

He was intrigued. It was strangely satisfying to see her in them.

"As soon as you slip those chains you can have them back," she razzed, stepping towards the bars.

"I'll get right on that." Then, as an after thought he added coyly, "What else can I have?"

She stopped dead. _That cocky bastard._ "Nothing," she said, her breath catching. She left before he could respond.

_Hmm_, he mused as he watched her saunter away,_ Interesting._

She wasn't about to tell him why she had changed her mind. She hadn't come to terms with the reasons herself. What did it matter any way? It was wrong, all wrong.

She heard heavy boots fall into step behind her. She put one hand in the bowl to hover over the knife's handle, just in case.

"Did you have fun last night?"

"What do you want, Toombs?" Her pace didn't slow.

"Was he gentle?"

"If you don't have anything sensible to say, go jack off." They rounded a corner, passed the guards, and entered the elevator. She kept her eyes trained on the doors.

"Who bit first, you or him?"

"I don't know what your problem is. You've been extra sleazy ever since we landed on UV6." She turned to him, shoving the basin into his belly, forcing him to take it. "What's the deal? Hu? Why are you acting like this?"

He picked a fleck of dirt from under one of his fingernails. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

She cocked and eyebrow, "What? No. What does that have to do with anything?"

He leaned casually against the wall. The car came to a stop. He immediately kicked the close button and held it. "On our way to the system, I programmed the computer to wake me early. Just me. I wanted to read his file over again.

"Supposedly, everything shuts down when you're in cryo sleep. Everything but the reptilian-"

She was catching on. Nodding, she agreed, "You're not supposed to dream."

He smirked, "Right. So imagine my surprise when little Kyra starts yammering. On and on. At first you weren't making any sense. For a while I went about my business, ignoring you. But after a while, things started getting interesting." She narrowed her eyes, but let him continue. "You started making sounds," he shivered slightly, "Good sounds."

She turned away from him, disgusted. He forcefully pulled her back around, "That must have been one hell of a nasty fantasy, with all of that moaning and heaving. And just as I started to wonder who it was you were doin' in that screwy little mind of yours, you gave me the answer-" He rolled his eyes back in his head, his voice taking on an airy, high pitched tone to mock her, "Riddick. Oh, Riddick. Ugh... Uh..."

She knocked his foot away from the button and the doors slid open. She practically ran out, leaving Toombs doubling over with laughter.


	7. Shedding The Mercs

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

Kyra hurried to her room. It was dark and cool inside. Mitch was no where to be seen. She threw her back firmly against the door as she shut it. Pulling the goggles down around her neck she rubbed her reddening eyes.

She had dreams about him all the time. He'd been such a vital part of her jumbled life, she couldn't help it. They ranged from the mundanely innocent to the fiery X-rated. But she'd never been aware that others were privy to them as well. No wonder Toombs was being such a dick. An ass like him loved getting dirt on his crew.

She ran her hands feverishly through her hair and bit her lower lip. She felt like some one had just taken a sledge hammer to her gut. It wasn't fair. Not here, not now... not so suddenly. Why couldn't Toombs have just told her before they left the space port? Things would have been different. She could have refused to join up for this assignment.

She thought about that for a moment. If she had known that Riddick was the target, would she have passed up the opportunity to lay him next to the others on her resume? After all, he was the one man in the universe that she truly desired to see chained up in a god-forsaken triple max slam some where. Would she have let some one else have the satisfaction of placing that bit in his mouth? No.

But then again... no one else would have been able to get him off that snow-cone ruled planet. She'd take him down, or he'd be on the outs forever.

She set to work packing her bags.

In an hour the whole team was re-assembled back at Riddick's cell, ready to haul him out to the shuttle bay.

"Okay, big boy, let's get you out of here," Mitch greeted, stepping in ahead of the others.

They took his arms down from the wall first, attaching them to his waist. In order to do this, they had to uncuff him and switch from the cell's bindings to their own. His wrists were placed one over the other before a giant manacle was closed around them. Then came his feet and legs, and the collar. Kyra silently slipped the bit into place and deftly clamped the latch shut behind his head.

To taunt him, she was still wearing the goggles. They were pushed high on her forehead, holding her hair at bay. Swiftly, she unsheathed her long dirk as the others unholstered their hand blasters. They took up their original safety positions and made their way down.

The docking guard let them by with out questioning, and radioed the booth to begin launch sequencing. Not more than a few paces from their craft Toombs summoned the ramp down. Then, all hell broke loose.

When they had been putting on his mobile restraints, they had failed to catch Riddick play out the oldest trick in the book. He put his wrists together, one on top of the other like they'd asked. He stacked them width on top of width, so that his hands were vertical with his thumbs aimed at the ceiling. When the time was right, all he had to do was roll his hands palm down and he could easily slip free. It worked like a charm.

With his hands back in commission, he swung to the left, jerking the blaster out of Spinner's grasp. He turned it on the stunned mercenary, shooting a quarter sized hole right through his chest.

Mitch tugged hard on his leash. He leaned back to counter her weight before slapping her aside.

Kyra lunged forward with her blade reflexively, attempting to sever his spinal cord like she'd been trained. He twisted out of the way and around behind her. Rolling his fist in a chunk of her wavy locks, he held her against him. He reached for her armed wrist, pulling her own hand to her throat.

Mitch ran to Spinner's side, and Toombs trailed Riddick with his gun. The docking guard called for back up before rushing in.

Riddick drug Kyra backwards up the ramp, using her body as a human shield. She was doing her best to keep her knife away from her jugular, but was failing miserably. He was too strong. In a desperate attempt to extricate herself from his grip, she smashed her foot down as hard as she could on his instep. Her strike didn't faze him, and he continued pulling her into the ship. He slammed the door shut, then jammed the controls.

He skillfully rolled the knife out of her hand and into his own, then tossed it to the side. Flipping her around to face him, he pushed her into the VIP chair and quickly secured her.

This was her worst nightmare, having everything she routinely used to capture the universe' scum turned against her.

He spit the bit out, then asked, "Who's ship is this?"

"Toombs'," she squawked.

"Thanks, Toombs," he murmured, flipping on the dash.

"Abort launch! I repeat, _abort launch_!" The guard yelled into his walkie-talkie, but it was too late. Soon they were gone, leaving Toombs cursing Riddick at the top of his lungs.

Riddick set the ship on auto pilot, then returned to Kyra's side. "What's the bounty on my head?"

"One point five," she said darkly.

"What slam pays one point five for a convict?"

"It's a private party." She was throwing daggers at him with her stare.

He leaned into her so that they were almost nose to nose, "What planet?" he rumbled.

Her lip curled, "Helion Prime."

He blinked at her, then breathed, his tone sinister, "Imam."

"You don't know that."

"No, but I intend to find out. I want this pay day _off_." He went to the computer and typed something quickly.

She struggled against her bonds, but they were well made. She'd have to be a contortionist to escape. "Get me out of here and I can take those chains off of you," she offered.

He strolled easily over to her, then lifted the goggles off of her head, "Where are the keys?" he asked, shoving them unceremoniously onto his face.

"Let me go and I'll get them."

"How do I know you won't try to bust me open?"

"I'd like to," she admitted haughtily.

An amused smile tugged at the corner of his lip. "I'm not letting you out of that seat until you tell me why you didn't stay on Helion."

"Fine," she lifted one shoulder minimally, "I'm perfectly comfortable. Just thought you might be tired of being collared like a rabid bitch."

"I'm not in the mood to play," he said, checking a dial.

"Who said I was playing?"

"I'm taking you to Tartus Two," he informed her.

"What? Why?"

"It won't do either of us any good to have you on Helion Prime," he went to the front, settling himself in the pilot's seat, "Bad for business."

"You scared I'll take you out, or tag along?" She asked, her voice an echo of her snotty-brat past. He didn't answer.

He was quiet for a while, introspective. She herself had plenty to keep her mind busy, but did her best to keep it blank. After all, the last thing she needed was an impure thought to show its self across her traitorous features.

Riddick had all ready formulated a plan. Of course her crew would try to track them. She was their girl, and he was their meal ticket. If they had read his file and understood it, then they'd expect him to make straight for Helion Prime. He'd throw them for a loop. The two of them would touch down on Tartus, he'd make sure she kept her nose clean for a few days, then he'd leave her behind for her own sake. Out smart the mercs, no problem.

"Ready for cryo?" he asked rhetorically.

She nodded, but then realized what that could mean. "Wait! Are you going under?"

He nodded dryly in return, without facing her. He inserted the IV into his arm and leaned back. "Night," he grumbled.

Soon her mind began to grow hazy. The juice was being pumped into her through her wrist restraints. Her eyelids fluttered, and she was out.

In what felt like only moments, she was waking again. Riddick was piloting them to the surface. She gulped harshly, wondering if she'd betrayed herself in her sleep. _Damn Toombs._

They alighted in a shity little port on the outskirts of a major city. As soon as the landing gear took hold he unbuckled himself. "Keys," he demanded.

"Unless you're letting me out first, find them yourself."

With out hesitation he pulled himself to the back. His hand hovered over her arm for a moment, as if he were going to free her. But then he moved down her side, barely grazing her, all the way to her hip. He held it there, waiting for her to object. She didn't. He patted her pockets. Nothing in the front, so he carefully slid his probing behind and under her.

She looked down and to the side. Only he could excite her and make her feel violated all at once. "Stop," she said firmly. Immediately he withdrew. She looked him in the eye, past the darkened lenses, "Get me on my feet and you can have the keys."

He considered this for a moment (he could see she wasn't going to give in any time soon), then began unstrapping her. She refused his hand when he offered it, pushing herself to her feet. With long, strict strides she made her way to the copilot's seat, threw back the cushion, and extracted a ring of keys. She smacked them roughly against his chest. "What made you think I kept them on me?" she spurned. She sat down, slouching, and pulled her knees to her chest.

He made quick work of his manacles, shedding them to the floor. "Do you have a pair of regular old hand cuffs?"

"Why?"

"Yes or no."

"Yeah..."

"Where?"

"What do you want them for?" she felt suddenly small. She knew what he wanted them for. He wanted to make sure she was _inconspicuously_ under his control. She laid her head in one hand, "They're in a drawer, under the passenger seat to the right." He went for them. "You're not putting them on me," she said, crossing her arms defiantly. He stood behind her, dangling both the cuffs and her fur cloak in front of her. "It's not cold out," she stated bitterly.

"It'll hide the cuffs. Stand up."

"No."

If she was going to act like a child he was going to treat her like one. He wrapped his huge hand around her upper arm, lugging her erect. Then he jerked both hands behind her back, slapping the cuffs on.

"Ow!" She jabbed him in the chest with one shoulder, "They're too tight."

"It's only for a little while." He tamely paced the cloak around her, like a gentleman helping a lady on with her coat after a ritzy party. At the moment she didn't feel very much like a lady. "Don't make a scene," he warned in her ear, his voice treacherously soft.

"No problem," she answered with sarcastic gusto.

He put an arm around her shoulders and guided her from the craft. They took hurried, wooden steps out of the hanger and onto the road. It was the early evening, so the traffic on the sidewalks was manageable. He maneuvered her down one side street, then another, before scooting down an alley way.

"This looks promising," she quipped uncomfortably.

The alley widened at the rear, ending at an unsavory establishment squeezed into a space that seemed much to small for it. Wash that appeared old and forgotten hung on low slung cables that ran from one side of the narrow byway to the other. Crinkled posters and advertisements for everything from movies to brothels lined the walls. The one visible window was broken and dusty. He hurried her inside the brick building, ignoring the dirty beggar on the steps.

Inside wasn't much better. The wallpaper was a faded cream, and was peeling here and there. An array of ancient bulbs jutted out from the relatively high ceiling and walls. Unshrouded by any form of shade, their french vanilla light made everything look sallow. Even the man at the front desk looked unduly bilious. Dust caked all exposed surfaces, and something moldy sat on a coffee table in the supposed lobby.

Kyra gritted her teeth. So _this_ was Riddick's idea of a hotel?

"Can I help you?" asked the somniferous voice of the clerk.

"We'd like a room," Riddick replied, perfectly lax.

"Double or single?" he asked, smacking his sticky lips before a yawn made its way through them.

"Double."

The clerk frowned and furrowed his brow slightly, looking between the two of them. He sighed and marked down a double. Retrieving a room key that looked as if it hadn't been used in ages, he asked, "And what names should I put in the register?"

"Smith, mister and misses" Riddick said with a wicked half smile.

The man nodded. That was more like it. "Hey, Marie!" he called into the room behind him, "That's the eighth pair of Smiths tonight. Popular name, isn't it?"

Riddick took the key and thanked the man. They trotted up two flights of stairs to room 36. Kyra looked suspiciously up and down the hall as Riddick unlocked the door. Some toe curling, animalistic babble rose from the room right next to theirs, making her squirm. As soon as the lock clicked open she hurried inside. Riddick shut the door behind him, making sure it was firmly locked and deadbolted.

When he turned around he had to act quickly. Kyra was sending a mule kick his way. He caught her foot and twisted, plummeting her to the floor. Without a word, he shut himself in the bathroom.

She unsteadily rose to her feet. There was no window, and the locks on the door were too high to reach in her present predicament. She knew that if she called out no one would come to her rescue. There was no such thing as chivalry in a dive like this. Riddick turned the shower in the bathroom on. With a frustrated yowl, she plopped down on the nearest bed. If there was a model for worst case scenario, this was it.

* * *

Author's Note: Yeah, I know what it looks like. Cheep means to an end. Well, maybe it is. I don't know if I'll have to change the rating any time soon... I guess it depends on how dirty my mind gets. I'd suggest that any of you who don't have an account go a head and get one, just in case. Any way, R&R. 


	8. Take Out

Author's Note: This chapter is rather short compared to the others, hopefully it'll serve to wet your appetites for the next installment. Hopefully I'm inserting the right amount of sexual tension and sensibility between Riddick and Kyra. Let me know what you think.

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

The water was cold, freezing. He had done that on purpose. Some where between pinning her on UV6 and kidnapping her from the merc ship, his elemental male instincts had picked up on one very blatant fact: Kyra was a young, vital, beautifully built woman. His subconscious had been kind enough to inform him of such while in cryo.

He did his best to shove down his neanderthaloid urges to picture himself with her by replaying memories of T2 in his mind. She was scrawny, bald, and thirteen. Scrawny, bald, thirteen. He chanted it again and again as his fingers scrubbed his golden brown pectorals and biceps, keeping his hands as far as possible from more sensitive areas.

Kyra couldn't hold still. After minutes of tossing and turning across the mattress, she stood up and began pacing like a caged animal. She had to figure a way out of this. If nothing else, she needed to escape. Ideally, she'd reverse their roles some how.

For her age, she was highly experienced. She knew there was more than one way to coax a man into cuffs. But this was Riddick, and they had a history. The usual list of gimmicks had to be thrown out the window. She'd just have to sit back and wait for an opportunity to present its self.

She heard the water cease, and turned to see the bathroom door open. Riddick swaggered out, zipping up his pants. He'd thrown a towel around his neck; most of his slicked upper body had yet to be dabbed at by the cheap cloth. He tossed his sweat stained tank on the bed nearest the door, claiming it as his.

"What are we doing here?" she asked curtly.

He vaulted effortlessly onto the twin bed. "Laying low for a while," he rumbled, leaning into the thin comforter and lacing his fingers behind his head.

"Wonderful." She sat down. Her stomach growled loudly.

"Hungry?"

"What do you you think?"

"What do you want?"

"Anything. As long as it's dead before I'm expected to eat it."

He got to his feet before pulling his shirt on over his head. "How 'bout Thai? There's a place around the corner from the hanger. I'll stop by after I pick up your bags and trash the locator beacon inside the ship."

"Wanna do something about these before you go?" she asked, jerking her chin over her shoulder, indicating the cuffs.

He unsnapped her cloak and put it to the side. He pushed her farther up the bed, until the head board prevented her from scooting any further. He unlocked one cuff. She rubbed her sore wrist excessively, then held out the other to be freed as well. Tenderly, he took both hands in his and stared at them for a long while before half heartedly chaining her to the bed post.

"Riddick," she grumbled through her teeth, pulling uselessly.

"Be back soon," he promised as he left, shutting the door with a definitive thunk.

His errands didn't take much time at all. Her cloths and weapons were easy to access, and the beacon was a synch to find. Before he left, a sudden, bothersome feeling struck him. Something seemed off, wasn't right. He turned on the crafts sensors. Everything was all right there. Then he attempted to start the engine. With a weak sputter it refused to turn over.

Grabbing the onboard tool box, he headed out side for a peek under the hood. His suspicions were well founded. Some one had tampered with the magnetic tumblers. One was completely distorted. They were grounded until a new one could be found.

Taking extra care, he picked up a few boxes from the Thai restaurant before making his way back to the grody little establishment. He paused at the front desk. "Any one come here tonight who didn't check in?" he asked with his usual indifference.

"You mean some one looking for some body?" suggested the clerk. "No, no. No one like that tonight, not yet." Riddick started up the stairs, but the man's continuing drawl stopped him. "If it's her husband you're worried about, or-" he smiled at her youth, "-Or her father, pay it no mind. We keep a stiff lip about these things."

At the door to their room, Riddick knocked lightly. She didn't say anything. He entered noiselessly. She was fast asleep, peacefully dreaming. He put the bags on the floor and joined her on the bed, stretching out. She sighed contentedly. He watched the expressions of her vision play across her fair features.

He rubbed her arm to wake her. "Hey."

She slowly blinked the sleep from her eyes. She smiled fondly at him, then immediately snapped out of it when she realized she was no longer in dream land. She bucked him off, "What?"

He waved the take out in front of her nose, "Dinner."

"Right." She sat up.

He began opening the boxes, setting them down one by one next to her on the bed. The room was dim enough for his eyes, so he pulled his goggles back. Extracting a pair of chopsticks from his back pocket, he dug in and held a pinch of food up for her to take.

"Un-Uh," she shook her head wildly, "No way are you hand feeding me like I'm some sort of invalid. Put that down!" She turned her face away.

"Come on," he coed, "Just eat."

"Riddick, you are not going to treat me like a kid. Fucking uncuff me so I can eat the goddamn food!"

With a soft shrug he shoveled the noodles into his own eager jaws.

"Oh, ho ho- no. You are not gonna let me starve either, you rigid bastard."

"Then open up," he said obstinately.

"You're despicable," she scoffed, glowering profusely.

"You take what I give you or you don't eat," he growled, his voice taking on a no-nonsense tone.

"Bastard," she breathed.

"I brought your cloths," he said, brushing aside her name calling. He gestured at the bags before taking another bite.

"And how am I supposed to put them on? You gonna do that for me too?" They both froze and exchanged sideways glances. She rolled her eyes distastefully, "You wish."

He cleared his throat and took up another carton, "Some one was nice enough to visit the ship... and they left a calling card."

She groaned, "What now?"

"They cracked a tumbler. I'll have to find a new one."

"Shit!" She drove her heal into the mattress out of sheer frustration. Now, even if she could escape, she had no way to get off the planet.

"I know a guy here who can get me one. Quick and quiet. I'll call 'im after I get done."

"After _we_ get done," she said reluctantly. Suddenly submissive, she opened her mouth like a baby bird to its mother.

She had a plan, or more like a crude idea. If she behaved herself she just might have a chance to turn things around.


	9. Taking It With Salt

Author's Note: I have to take a moment to thank every one who has taken the time to review... you do wonders for my ego ;-) Hopefully this chapter wont disappoint. I wanted to somehow get them into a sensuously awkward situation, did I succeed? Let me know.

FitMama: I did think about revealing her desires for him that way, but I don't know... is it too stereotypical?

Any way, on to...

**Chapter Nine**

**

* * *

**

"Hey. It's me," Riddick mumbled into the cell phone. Kyra was staring intently at him, it made him uneasy. 

"Ah. Mr. Riddick, it's been years," loudly responded the slick Italian man on the other end.

"I need a favor."

"You know me, Riddick. I don't do favors."

There was a beat before he responded, "You know me. I don't make deals."

"No deals. Straight over payment. What do you need?"

"A k-80 mid sized tumbler for a Richter Ten with adapted spinners."

"I might have one laying around here... some place. Meet me at the club tonight. You can have a seat at my private table. We'll discuss the particulars," he sounded oily. The real old-school gangster type.

"I'll be there. Hour tops."

"I'll let the boys know you'll be along. Oh, and Riddick- bring a date this time. It's embarrassing to see a man such as your self with out the company of at least one fine woman. Makes men wonder..."

"One hour. Just me."

The man didn't appreciate his tone, "You know, come to think of it, I haven't seen any tumblers around here for at least a good few months. We'll check it out, but see," Riddick could feel the man smiling, "My eyes always focus better with a lovely around." He suddenly became stern, "Pick out a nice girl before you get here, I'll let the bouncers know to look for a guy with goggles and a blonde. No date, no parts. I mean it."

Riddick glanced at Kyra, "Brunette," he growled into the receiver.

"Yeah, sure. Brunette then. One hour." He hung up.

Riddick flipped the phone shut, pocketing it. "I heard what he said," Kyra confessed.

"Yeah. Been meaning to change the volume settings..."

"I'm coming with you."

He chuckled lowly, "That's Vince. Always making a mess of things. If he wasn't the only parts dealer I work with, I'd shiv his ass."

"I'm coming," she repeated.

"Nah. Thought I'd pick up a _real _woman," he said, his lips curling knavishly at her sour expression. "Yeah, all right."

"And I _can't_ go in chains-" she fumed.

"All right." He ran his hand repeatedly over his head, struggling with the decision. He knew he had no choice. He set her free.

She stretched stiffly, "Finally."

"Got some thing to wear clubbing?"

"I'll scrounge an out fit up." She heaved her bag onto the bed. She pulled out a pair of baggy, low rise cargo pants and a tight, purple spaghetti-strapped top. "'Ll this do?"

He shrugged uncaringly.

She moved to enter the bathroom, but he caught the door handle before her, "There's a window in there. Big enough for you."

"What, you don't trust me?"

"Should I?"

She threw her hands in the air, "Fine then! Turn around." She gave him a push to punctuate the point.

He revolved, crossing his arms in front of him. He heard her zipper slip slowly open, and her tight work pants being shoved to the floor. Then, the rustle of her hair as she slipped the stained, gray shirt over her head. His mouth went dry and his throat closed up, making it hard to swallow.

She flipped her dirty cloths over his shoulder, "Here. Do some thing with those, will ya?"

"Like what?"

"Start a wash pile some where."

He balled them up and tossed them in the corner. "Oh, wait-" she said half way through their flight to the floor. "I need my card, it's in the front pocket of my pants. Could you get it for me?"

Annoyed, he picked her trousers up again. He pulled her card out, a big black and white bar code blared out at him from beneath the lamination. "Gotta get paid, hu?"

"It's the only way a merc can put a few creds in the bank." He flicked it over his shoulder at her. She missed it, "Yeah, thanks," she bent to retrieve it.

Daringly, he glanced sideways at her, but quickly brought his vision back to front. Black bikini panties and a matching strapless bra. He'd been expecting something a little more... practical. He was pleasantly surprised.

"I saw that," she informed him indignantly.

"Vince said to make sure I brought a fine woman... you'll have to do."

"You better watch your back. One of these days, I swear- It's light's out."

"Shut up and put your fucking cloths on. I said one hour."

She jumped into her outfit, "Done." He looked her up and down, his expression unreadable. It clung to her in all the right places, the pants hung dangerously low on her hips, and the shirt rode teasingly high on her stomach. She pulled her locks back into a messy pony tale. "So?"

"You look like a goddamn merc."

"Thanks," she rolled her eyes, "You're not so bad your self." She found a pair of silver hoop earrings to complete the look. "Satisfied?"

"It's not me you gotta please."

"Vince'll like me just fine. What's the deal? I pretend I don't know you, or are we an item?"

"Just met. Got an alias you'd like to use?"

"Do I?" She winked bombastically at him, "Remember who you're talking to."

She brushed on a little make up before they made their way down the stairs. The clerk smiled broadly at them as they passed. Riddick was weary, and made sure to keep one hand on her at all times. The last thing he needed was for her to bolt off. He wasn't in the mood to chase her.

The night was warm and pleasant, so the walk was nice. As they drew closer to the club, it's old neon lights flashing, Kyra began the act. Her hand wound around his lower back, depositing its self in his far rear pocket.

As if an electric pulse were running through her finger tips, a static tingle found its way from her touch to the depths of his gut... and beyond. He mentally shook his head clear. _It's been too long_, he informed himself. After all, nearly half a decade on a snow ball with out any company deprives a man of certain 'experiences' and 'activities'. That was the only reason for his body's clear response to her caress. It'd been years since he'd screwed, that was all.

He moved his arm from around her shoulders to her waist.

Two bouncers barred the door. "Invitation?" one asked.

"Vince is expecting me."

They frowned deeply, but allowed them to pass. It was darker inside than it was on the street, but Riddick kept his goggles in place. He guided Kyra to the tables in the back. He could feel her resist slightly, _We've got things to take care of, save the fight for later._

The place was perfect; spacious, packed with dancers and bar goers. If she could tear herself away from Riddick for one moment, she could disappear. The pressure he applied to her hip with his rough hand let her know he was determined not to let that happen.

Vince was at his corner table, smoking a cig, flanked by two trashy blondes in flashy baby tops. His hair was slicked back, caked with gel. "Ah, there's my man!" he exclaimed as they strolled up. "And he took my advice. Will you look at that, ladies? And who might this sweet thing be?"

All ready disgusted, Kyra let him take her hand. With a smile plastered on her lips, "Lex," she said.

He nodded his approval, and motioned for them to sit. Riddick made her slide into the booth first so that he could corral her.

"Where did you two meet?" asked the woman next to Kyra.

"At a bar up the road. I needed a date and she needed to get away for a while," he explained, massaging the back of her neck.

"I'm Veronica, and this is Electra," she introduced.

Kyra pursed her lips, and mumbled to Riddick, "Of course."

"I Love your earrings," Electra gushed.

"Thanks," she replied hastily, "Rid, didn't you have some thing to pick up? Lets make this quick, I wanna get out on the floor."

"First," said Vince, leaning in, "Before we smooth things out- A round of drinks. You take shots, Riddick?" He beckoned to a bar tender. "Double shots for every one," he ordered, "Blue Flares."

The man obliged, bringing over a tray full of the fiery drinks. The alcohol was cobalt, and bright orange flames danced over the surface.

"Cheers," Vince blew his out before downing it. Every one else at the table followed suit. Lime slices were passed around and dipped in the salt bowl before the second set of drinks were gulped. Kyra was glad for the shots, she needed something after what she'd recently been through.

"Do you have the parts?" Riddick asked, taking no time to savor the flavor.

"Do you have the credits?"

Riddick pulled Kyra closer to him, almost into his lap. She was confused for a moment, until his hand delved into her pocket. He held up her card, "Sure do." It took all of her self restraint to keep from slapping him.

"Good."

"The parts?"

"You'll get them. Stop worrying Riddick. Stres'll age a man. Take a tip from me," he kissed each blonde, "Have some fun." He snapped his fingers, "Tender! Yeah, another double round!"

"I know what'll loosen him up," Veronica said, nudging Kyra playfully, "Body shots."

Kyra's eyes went wide, but Riddick stepped in before she could respond, "Just bring me the tumbler and we'll go. I've got better places to be."

Vince shook his head, "No, I think it's a good idea." The drinks were delivered. "A few body shots to get us all in the mood, then I'll give you the goods."

"Vince, are you fucking with my time? Because, you know-" Kyra laid a hand on his shoulder. It wasn't a good idea for him to loose his cool in such a packed place. Pulling out a shiv was liable to turn heads. They didn't need to become headliners on the evening news.

"It's okay, baby," she said, flirty, skillfully masking her extreme discomfort. "I don't mind."

He stared at her for a long instant. For him, it was a definite, _What the fuck?_ moment.

Taking his lack of protest as a good sign, she blew out the flames on a glass, wetted her fingers in the alcohol, then dipped them into the salt bowl. Cautiously, as if she were afraid he would get angry and push her away, she drug her encrusted digits over his collar bone, leaving a messy trail. She threw back the shot and leaned in slowly, giving him plenty of time to stop her.

He was in a daze, and watched with stunned eyes as she got closer. He turned his face away from her, afraid to reveal his surprise. Her head dipped, and she tentatively ran her tongue over the salt, lingering for a moment to make sure she had sucked his skin clean. His breath quickened as his body rushed blood to his lower half.

It was her turn to be surprised. He appeared composed, but she recognized that look. The look that said, _Either I'm sitting on crushed glass or you just flipped the switch and turned me on._ She gulped dryly and found herself unreasonably praying to God that it was the former. One thing was for certain, he was just as uncomfortable as she was.

"Now it's your turn, big boy," Electra said, sliding a glass to him.

He shrugged his tension off. If they were going to do this he'd give a good show. Besides, Kyra deserved some payback for that shit she just pulled.

He took her arm and smeared salt from the inside of her wrist to the inside of her elbow. He sucked the shot down and sensuously attacked her skin, moving slowly along, kneading the sensitive crook of her arm with his teeth once he got there.

_Bastard._ She would have dropped her jaw if she wasn't so keen on keeping in character. She knew what he was doing. Escalation. He was egging her on, daring her to top that. _Bold. He'll get what's coming to him._

Vince and the girls were happy sitting back, watching the fun play out.

She ran his ear lobe between her fingers, readying it for her lips. She emptied the glass, pressed herself into him and pulled his head to her. She drew the lobe into her mouth with zealous, rolling it with her tongue.

When after several moments she refused to relinquish her hold on him, he latched onto her waist, startling her. He picked her up awkwardly, and set her on the table in front of him. He scooted forward so that she was closely straddling his torso. He pushed the hem of her top higher, and she leaned back complacently. He swallowed two drinks in a row, then smudged the salt over her toned belly. He smoothly lapped a path from the bottom of her shirt to her belly button, where he swirled his tongue eagerly. It tickled, and her abs clenched as she took in a sharp breath. presumptuously, he proceeded on until he skimmed the rim of her pants. Suddenly, he lifted his head, peering at her with a subtle smirk.

"Bravo," Vince clapped his hands together happily. The blondes giggled.

Riddick helped her back into her seat, "Loose enough for you?" he asked.

"Well done, I must say," Vince consented. He pulled out a note pad and scribbled down some directions. When a waiter came to clear the table he handed it to him. "A package will be left at the hanger for you tomorrow morning." He and the girls stood, moving away from the table, Riddick and Kyra followed. "I'll take your card and scan it, then you two can be on your way."

He went to the bar, and the blondes left for the dance floor.

Kyra slapped his shoulder, "Got a little _too_ into it, doncha think?"

"Any thing to please."

"I am _not_ pleased," she scoffed, incensed.

"I meant him," he pointed over his shoulder at their host, who was making his way back.

"Here you are," he palmed the card to Riddick. He shook his hand, then embraced Kyra. He whispered in her ear, as if to shock her, "Bet when you left your flat tonight you didn't think you'd be going home with a convicted killer, did you?" He piggishly squeezed her ass for effect.

That was crossing the line. The prick had it coming. She grabbed his arm, forced him to the floor, then placed her foot against his throat. Riddick made no move to stop her. "I had an idea," she disclosed through clenched teeth.

Riddick took her hand and graciously led her away. Neither of them looked back.


	10. It's Only Rain

**Chapter Ten

* * *

**

Out side the club it was raining. Torrents of water fell from the sky, drenching both of them completely. He hurried Kyra along, though she struggled. "Riddick, stop," she made an attempt to plant her feet, but he tugged harder still. "Riddick, Stop! I'm serious, let me go!" The water running down her form made her slippery, and she was able to twist free. Immediately, she took off in the opposite direction, flying down the sidewalk. 

With a frustrated snarl, he took up the chase. "Kyra," he bellowed after her. "Kyra!" his tone was dark and threatening.

She pumped her arms as hard as she could. He wasn't going to chain her to that bed again. She wouldn't let him. She passed few people, and just narrowly avoided colliding with those she did. The stupefied on lookers made no move to intercept the muscular predator that haunted her step.

He was steadily closing in. She felt the thrill of being pursued knot her stomach. It squeezed her lungs, sending her into a giddy sort of half-panic. Her own heavy steps pounded through her ears, rattling her scull. She could hear his labored breathing behind her.

She ducked into a barren side street just as he reached out for her. His fingers brushed her shoulder, but sailed on by. He skidded to a halt before spinning after her.

"No," she breathed as she ran deeper. There was a huge cross-weave chain fence directly ahead. It was a good ten feet tall. She slammed into it, trying to gain a suitable hold so that she could boost herself up and over.

Then he was on top of her, literally. He pinned her to the fence with his body. "Riddick!" she yelled at him, doing everything in her power to escape.

He encompassed her waist with his big arms, hauling her backwards. She pushed against him, her feet flailing but never making decent contact with his legs. "Let. Me. Go!" she screeched.

He pushed her into a wall, figuring it was the best way to restrain her. Her cheek bashed into the brick. He kicked her feet apart and spread her arms, holding her in the classic search position. He held her quietly, waiting for her to stop struggling. That moment never came. The fight just wouldn't drain out of her.

He leaned in further, hoping the solid steadiness of his body would quail her. "Shh, shh..." he hushed in her ear.

She clenched her jaw, balling and unballing her fists. Despondent whimpers and sighs escaped her grimacing mouth.

"It's okay," he crooned, "It's okay."

"It is _not_ okay," she stated, fire welling up in her eyes. "You don't need me any more. I know what you do with things you no longer need. _Toss me aside._ Just let me go!" she pleaded. He had no reason to keep her. She was penniless, weaponless, on an unfamiliar planet. There was hardly anything she could do to harm him at the moment. All she could be was a rat. But who was there to rat to?

A dark figure suddenly appeared at the mouth of the side street, drawing the attention of both. Kyra let herself hope. _Just once, God, please. Let compassion rule._ The man stopped, silhouetted by the street lamps. Then, as quietly as he had come, he stocked away, leaving the trapped woman to her fate.

Riddick pushed his goggles up, and a primal, mesmerizing growl accompanied his words, "No one's coming for you. No one is going to 'save' you."

She looked him dead in the eye, meeting his shine with new found scorn, "I realized that a long time ago."

Her double meaning was not lost on him, but he did not let it tangle with his arrogant edge. He spun her to face him, forcing her hands high above her head. She continued to hold his gaze, never faltering.

"Why, Riddick? Why didn't you just let me run?"

"I'm not finished with you."

"What more can I do? You don't need-"

"You don't know what I need," his voice quavered unexpectedly. He broke eye contact, his lashes fluttering sadly, almost shyly.

Her contempt reached its peek. All this man thought about was himself, it had always been so. His self indulgence went beyond the basic need to survive. She used to think that he hurt people only because he had to. That wasn't true. Inflicting pain quenched some sort of sick thirst inside of him. Now he was hurting her again. It wasn't the acidic ache in her physical body she was thinking of, it was the ache in her mind, in her heart. He wanted to use her, and if that meant toying with her, trying to suck pity from her, he would do it. The fucking bastard was playing her, she knew it.

Two kinds of terror gripped her. A terror telling her she meant about as much to him as a parlor mouse, and a terror that insisted that if that was the case, he'd kill her when all was said and done. "I hate you," she coughed bitterly, her legs beginning to shake with emotion.

With that, she sent a phantom shiv straight through his sweet spot. He backed away, as if he had just awaken from a dream. She dropped her arms, hugging herself tightly. She watched as he continued to walk in reverse, until his spine hit the far wall. He stared at her with subtle amazement in his eyes, like a man who had no recollection of how he had come to be where he was.

The relentless rain beat down on them, it's staccato notes ringing in their ears.

"You're not the first."

She sniffed wetly. His sudden docile manor unnerved her. But he was faking, she was sure, and she wanted to claw his pretty eyes out for it. Rubbing her face, she stepped forward. "I'm leaving," she informed him, as evenly as she could, "I'm not going back to the ship, and I'm not going back to the hotel. I- This..." she trailed off. How could she tell him? How could she put it into terms that would register with him? "I won't chase you any more, understand? Leave me alone and you have one less merc to worry about. I caught you once, and you confirmed everything I ever thought about you. I'm done. I know you, Riddick. And I can't believe I-" she stopped again, gulping against the cotton ball that had lodged its self in her wind pipe.

"You don't know me," he said bluntly, before she could continue.

She shook her head, patronizing herself. "Right. I don't know much, do I?" She waved her hand in the air, trying to ward off the hundreds of angry phrases that begged to be thrown at him. "I'm leaving," she repeated. _I never want to see you again._

"You never told me why," he said once she was mere paces from the main road.

To her own disgust, she turned. "Why what?"

"Why you came looking for me."

She laughed lucidly. Biting her bottom lip, she roughly returned to him. She left three feet of empty space hanging between them. She was beginning to break down. Everything she had ever felt for him bubbled to the surface. No longer did she care about loosing face. She was moments away from walking out on him, just like he had her. With any luck she'd go through the rest of her life with out hearing his gruff voice, or wondering if the eyes in the bushes belonged to him.

"You wanna know why?" she crossed her arms defensively across her chest. Her lips quivered. She pressed them into a thin line and angled her chin towards the ground. When she looked up again her hair clung to her face, giving her an abused and dejected look. "For all of your many intuitions, you really don't have a clue, do you?" She came closer, looking as if she were about to bite his nose off. "You can't see it, because you've never felt it," she spat, lacing her words with as much venom as she could.

His arm shot out, catching hers. She balled her fist as he drug her up close. His eyes delved into hers, attempting to excavate the truth through them. "Tell me."

She rose up on her toes, impulsively planting a warm peck on his cheek bone. "Good bye, Riddick."

He released her. She strode vigorously away and didn't look back. He put his hand on his cheek. A ghostly tingle played across his skin where her lips had barely brushed him.

For the second time in his life, he'd lost the only person that had ever made a long lasting difference. And the worst part was, she'd never know how much she mattered to him. It was over. She was gone.

* * *

Author's Note: Of course, it _isn't _over. I think something very nasty is about to happen. And there's a little mystery that needs to be solved. Who sabotaged the ship? Thanks for reading, review please! 


	11. Prelude To A Mess

Author's Note: Think of this as a teaser for the next chapter. It's short, but sweet. And you know what? You guys are right. Riddick is coming off like a jerk, isn't he? Well, it's not necessarily because it's his intention to be a jerk. He tries to do what's best, but it all ends up biting him in the rear.

**Chapter Eleven

* * *

**

They were two people who couldn't see the forest for the trees. They couldn't see what the other was feeling because of their own emotional self involvement.

As soon as she was out of Riddick's line of sight, she ran again. She had no direction, no goal, but she had to run. She needed to put him as far behind as possible. Emotion drove her, emotion she had tried to suppress for so many years. Her joints periodically cracked, sending jolts of pain though her body that made her stumble. Her face was contorted with determination. She had to keep going. She needed to get far, far away.

She couldn't believe this was all happening to her. If you took away the dead time in cryo sleep, her whole life had turned up side down in less than 46 hours. She had been sent into a tail spin by a specter from her past.

Her thoughts wandered to Lupus Five. It had been raining then, too. The irony.

Eventually, she couldn't run any more. Her knees gave out from under her and she was plummeted to the gowned. She couldn't remember a time when she felt this weak or this vulnerable. That wasn't true. T2. In the end, everything came back to Riddick.

She cursed out loud. Water streamed down her face and into her mouth. She spit it out harshly.

A choking desperation filled her chest cavity, coercing tears into their ducts. She forcefully drug the back of her hand over each eye, preventing any salty discharge from falling. She would not cry. Kyra was stronger than that. Kyra never cried.

"Excuse me, Miss?" An open palm was gently lowered in front of her. "Do you need help?"

She looked up, blinking through the inexorable onslaught. There was a man standing in front of her. He wore a long, flint gray turncoat. His form looked strangely familiar, but she couldn't place it.

She waved his hand aside, and pushed herself up right. "No," she gasped, "I'm fine, really. Thank you. I don't need any help."

The man smiled softly. He pulled out what looked like a pager, checked it, then pressed a button. "Maybe not now-" he said good naturedly. She cocked an eyebrow at him. What was that supposed to mean? "-But you will in a moment."

At that instant, a black bag was thrown over her head from behind. Draw strings brought it's mouth closed, tight around her neck. She let out a half startled scream, half ragefull snarl. The sound was sufficiently muted by the thick bag.

She struggled against her attacker, but soon he was joined by a second that came from the same direction. He twisted her arms behind her back, chafing her skin as he did so. She was all ready exhausted from her sprint. She didn't know how much longer she could keep up the fight. She didn't have to worry about it for very much longer. The man who had offered her a hand up took a buzz baton from his belt. It had been concealed by his over sized coat. He hit her across the torso with it twice, sending volts upon volts of nerve frying electricity into her.

Just before she blacked out she remembered where she recognized his shape from. He was the man who had stood in the side street, watching as Riddick dominated her.

Riddick himself felt like he had just been smacked by a buzz baton dead in the groin. He was an idiot, and he didn't need any one else to point it out to him. _For all of your many intuitions..._ He rubbed his callused palms over his face. He knew. He'd always known. But it had been in the best interest of both if he never consciously acknowledged it. His leaving had damaged her in ways he couldn't have predicted.

The truth was, he didn't have a clue. He did indeed believe he had her figured out, and he was close, but just missed the mark.

With a loud, tempered sigh, he jogged after her. After only a few steps, his brain kicked in. _No, let her go. You've fucked her up enough. Good job. _

He returned to the hotel. The clerk was surprised to see him back so soon, and so alone. "Where's Mrs. Smith?" he asked, as Riddick passed.

He tried to remain outwardly stoic, but it was difficult, "I don't know," he said frankly. The man left it at that.

Riddick unlocked the door and slumped inside. He laid down on his bed, staring at the ceiling through the darkness. He had been planning on stranding her here any way, so why did he feel like he'd just been run over by a Mack Truck?

He got up and moved around the room, picking up her things. He stuffed them sloppily into her bags. He put the handcuffs on the counter in the bath room.

The night was still young, but he opted for bed any way. Some decent sleep, that's what he needed to clear his head.

Some times dreams can be hurtfully mocking.

There was someone beneath him, rolling her hips against his. Blinding white light assaulted him from all angels, forcing his dream eyes to remain closed. He could hear her. She was moaning softly, occasionally throwing out an airy, lust filled statement. He put his hands out, running them across her clean, naked form. He was bringing her higher, tugging all sorts of pleasure from her limbs. He could feel her heart beet quickening, fluttering wildly against her ribs. She was so close.

Suddenly, the lights went out. They were both plunged into darkness, and he could safely open his eyes. Her head hung backwards over the lip of an invisible platform. He continued his ministrations until every muscle in her body contracted, convulsing as she reached her peek. And just as he was about to reach the summit himself, she lifter her head...

"Riddick," she gasped.

He jerked awake. His chest, arms, and cheeks were slicked with sweat, and his loins burned almost painfully.

He struggled with his sheets, untangling himself from them before he jumped to his feet. His shoulder blades bumped against the wall, and he slowly slid down it until he was sitting.

He rubbed his eyes franticly, trying to wipe the vivid images from his mind. He couldn't afford dreams like that.

He felt sticky, and a little sick. The best remedy for both was a shower... cold. He undressed and hurried into the bathroom. He reached for the shower knobs and found himself spinning on the hot water. Steam swelled up around him. He wiped the mirror clean and peered at himself.

This wasn't like him. He'd had a great sex dream, so what? It was nothing to feel guilty about. Yes, it was her, but... but nothing.

He jumped in, letting the water roll soothingly down his back. He grabbed the soap, lathering himself up generously. Then he began scrubbing, working at the top and moving meticulously down. Down. His hands massaged the top of his masculine, well defined V. He was still aroused, but he wouldn't let himself... He couldn't.

He turned around, using the spray to wash away the soap from his front.

_No...No..._

He ground his teeth. It ached. He just needed to make it go away.

_No... No..._

He slammed his fist into the tiles. Why the hell did he care so much? There was no reason not to jerk himself off.

_No. It was Kyra. I can't._

Wanton reflections from the dream flashed in front of his eyes. He shook his head, attempting to dislodge them from his memory.

In the end, the body's wants nulled the protests of the conscience.

_Ah, Hell... What the fuck?

* * *

_

Author's Note: I don't know why, but it's kind of embarrassing writing stuff like this. Poor little wannabe innocent me. And I don't know... is this crossing the line? Should this have a more mature rating now?


	12. Battered And Bruised

Author's Note: Yeah, another short one. Hopefully it's good despite that. The feed back's great, keep it coming!

Oh, and mrs. skywalker: I can't believe that happened! You two must be traumatized...

**Chapter Twelve**

**

* * *

**Even after his shower, Riddick didn't sleep well. Something in his gut shriveled up, making him feel like he was harboring something dead inside his body. It was guilt. Guilt over pleasuring himself while imagining her. The gnarled knot of subtle self loathing steadily clawed its way from his belly to his chest, putting unmistakable pressure on his left cavity. 

Usually, when Riddick couldn't sleep he'd sit up to think. But thinking wouldn't help tonight. There was only one thing on his mind. Even though she was gone she wouldn't leave him in peace.

Eventually, the sun decided it was time to get up and start the new day. He rolled over for the twentieth time to examine his bedside plasma clock. Tartus had twenty eight hour days, and it was all ready half past six. The hanger should be open by now, and he should be able to retrieve the tumbler. From there it was on to New Mecca. There was no reason to stay here any longer.

x.X.x

An adamant, blinking, red light slowly wormed its way into Kyra's senses, bringing her out of a nearly comatose sleep. Her eye lids lifted minimally. It was dark, all except for the small flashing and a misty white glow that came from her left. She couldn't focus. The poorly lit room swam before her, swirling like mixed paint on an artist's palette. She tried to open her eyes wider, but it was too difficult.

She'd been drugged. She felt as if runny Jell-O was being pumped through her veins rather than blood, her teeth felt soar, and her neck was throbbing with stiffness. A grainy tingle, as if some one were pouring sand down her shirt, trickled along her spine.

Only on the verge of self awareness, she attempted to move and found she couldn't. At the moment it didn't bother her, groggy as she was.

Suddenly, the glow brightened, spewing light into the room.

She clamped her eye lids down and rolled her head away. _Light at my back, not in my eyes..._ she thought vaguely, unaware that the words were an echo from her past and did not belong to her.

She felt the glare seep away and wearily allowed her eyes to creep open once again. Three figures, wearing all black and disguised by ski masks, had some how appeared before her. They stood shoulder to shoulder with their hands clasped behind their backs, as if they were waiting for something. They were square to her.

She absently noted that she was standing up. Or, at least, dangling vertically.

She lifter her head (which she hadn't noticed drooping) from her chest. Images still pooled and danced in front of her dazed and hooded stare.

The figure in the middle, the shortest of the three, stepped forward. "Welcome home, Audrey." The voice was clearly feminine, and resonated with motherly satisfaction.

Kyra opened her mouth to speak, but the woman quickly back handed her. She slipped again into utter darkness.

x.X.x

_I'll come up with an excuse later_, Riddick told himself as he walked down the street with Kyra's bags hanging from him left and right. It made sense to bring the weapons, but her cloths were useless to him._ You'll think of something. They're good for something..._

He arrived at the hanger in no time. The place was practically deserted. He took the luggage aboard the ship before going to the front desk to inquire about the package. The employee there had his back to him, shuffling with something on the far counter.

Riddick cleared his throat. "Excuse me."

Someone stepped in line behind him.

The employee didn't respond. "Hey!" He just wanted off the planet. Off the damn planet...

The man slowly turned around. He was dressed oddly, for being on the job. Long turncoats usually weren't part of standard issue uniforms. "No," he said, his voice dripping with the need to satisfy a customer, "Excuse me."

The person behind Riddick shifted. Quick as a flash they pulled his goggles off. He turned around to pummel the asshole, and was assaulted by the focused beam of a high powered flashlight. His hands flew in front of his face, and he keeled over backwards into the service counter. The masquerading employee pulled out his buzz baton and slammed it into the base of Riddick's scull.

That didn't make him happy. Riddick reached out, groping for the man who had just electrically singed the stubble from his neck. He caught him by the collar and blindly plowed his fist into his pointed nose.

Abruptly, he was forced to let go. A third attacker engaged him, pushing an illegally improved taser between his legs. Once the coated man was free he swung at Riddick's head with all his might. The baton caught him just under the temple and sent him crashing to the floor.

The man behind the counter vaulted over it, and the three circled him. The one in charge of the flash light continued to aim the beam directly at his face. The other two tightened their grips on their electrifying weaponry.

With a guttural grunt, Riddick moved to free a shiv from one of the many concealed sheaths on his body. The men beat down on him at once. Seemingly out of no where, a fourth joined in the assault. They continued to strike him, slamming again and again. They whacked at him until he was bleeding from his mouth and his nose. Riddick was grateful when all of the light suddenly just faded away...


	13. Meet The Folks

**Chapter Thirteen

* * *

**

Kyra was slowly coming to once again. The damn blinking wouldn't leave her in peace. This time when her eye fluttered open she was able to decipher her surroundings. The red light was a digital plasma clock face on the far wall. It briefly read 7:41AM before rolling over to the next minute.

She felt like she had the biggest, baddest, most horrendous, stranglingly obnoxious hangover of her life. Unfortunately, it hadn't been preceded by a night of good times and rough bangs.

Her first thought was, _Damn. I wanna puke._ Her next was, _Shit, the fuckers actually found me._

She rolled her head from side to side and found that she was standing in what looked like a bath tub that had been tipped on its end. Her arms and legs were chained, holding her spread-eagle. She peered over the lip of the tub-like locker and saw several more on both sides. The one directly to her right had a heavy tarp draped over it.

Again, the door to her left opened, temporarily dousing the cramped room in cold, white light before it swung shut. The figures in black were back, followed by the man in the gray coat.

"Look at that, Father," said the woman, "I do believe she's truly awake this time."

With that, the three of them unmasked themselves. The woman stepped forward and pinched Kyra's cheek. "We've missed you," she said, mockingly sweet.

"We brought a present for you, Audrey," said the second man who hadn't been addressed as Father. He was very stately, and held his chin high, as if he were trying to inconspicuously peer over a neighbor's fence. He motioned to the man in the turncoat.

The man moved to the shrouded locker next to hers, and with a crooked grin pulled the tarp down, flamboyantly throwing it to the floor. With ease, he swiveled the locker for her to get a better look at its occupants. There was Riddick, head dangling, blood still steadily dripping from his nose, his eye lids open only a fraction.

Her lips parted and her mind went temporarily blank. Then, three words looped themselves through her brain, _Oh. My. God._

Her four abductors looked all too pleased with themselves. She snapped her mouth shut and wiped her features clean. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her freak out over him.

"Ah, Audrey. When you left, we thought we were through," sighed Father while rotating her locker as well so that she and Riddick faced each other, "We were devastated. We had devoted years of our lives to you." He smiled, "But in your absence you accomplished more for us then you ever could have at the center."

She snorted distastefully, her eyes glued to Riddick's limp form.

The woman's eyes flicked between them, "Should we wake him for you?"

Father's hand caught her arm, "No, Mother, not yet. Uncle and I still have observations to make."

Uncle nodded his concurrence, "Yes, we should leave them."

Mother sighed, but agreed. They began to leave, but Kyra stopped them. "Wait," she said, her voice strong and steady. She nodded at the man in the coat, "Who's he?"

"You can call me Brother," he said pleasantly. Then they were gone.

"Right," she whispered to herself, "Brother."

She turned back to Riddick. The small glint of eye shine she could see looked duller than usual. She bit her lip. What the hell did they need him for? Shit, it just figured. Once she thought she was finally rid of him, he was thrust back onto her.

"Psst!" She looked franticly around. Maybe if she woke him up he'd some how be able to figure a way out of here. "Hey. Riddick!" she kept her tone low, but harsh. He made no sign he had heard her. She gritted her teeth. "Yo, Big Evil. Hello in there." She pulled against her restraints, not really expecting them to give, but not knowing what else to do. "Riddick! Come on. Riddick!" She leaned forward, straining towards him, "Hello? Can Riddick come out an play now? I need him to wake up before my stupid-" She jerked her wrists from side to side and growled, "-Before they get back." She stomped her feet, becoming extremely agitated and all together frustrated. "Damn you, you big bronze ape! Why the hell did you get yourself dragged into this, hu? Wake up!" She raised her voice, "Wake up! I swear to you, Riddick, if you don't snap out of it right now I will come over there and surgically reverse that shine myself!"

She paused for a moment, holding her breath to see if there was any change. Still, he showed no response.

She leaned back and shut her eyes. This just wasn't her week. Thinking back on her previous predicament, she knew there was no contest. She would much rather be in a sleazy hotel room, tied to the bed with Riddick lording over her, instead of here, in the bowels of some sort of transport, with these crazy people popping in and out.

She set her jaw and stood up straight, ready to try again. "Riddick?" she prodded gently, "Riddick? Riddick, I need you right now. You've got to get up, big man. Come on, I know you're in there." She gulped loudly, "Riddick, Please. If you wake up I promise I'll tell you everything. All of it. But first I need you here so we can form some sort of a game plan, all right?"

Nothing.

"God, Riddick! How come it's only when I need you that you're never there, hu?" She got louder again, like a hyped up football coach giving his team a pep talk at half time, "I know they hurt you, but you can't fool me. No one breaks Big Evil."

She looked up at the ceiling, searching it for some indication that they were being taped. She knew the four were watching this. Fine, let them watch.

"Riddick. I hate you. I hate you so much I'd rather suck warmp weed than let you lay one finger on me again. So, if you're trying to punish me, I understand. But there are a lot worse things than hate, and you know it. Damn it, are you listening to me? You can drag 140 kilos through the mud during a shit storm, but you can't shake off a bar room brawl!"

His eyes shot open, and he sternly lifted his head, gazing at her intensely.

She clamed up right away and returned his stare. She wondered how much of her ranting he'd actually heard.

He sniffed, trying pull the blood back into his sinus' capillaries. His lip was split, and a big purple stain blossomed below one eye. He gave her a quirky half smile, "That was one hell of a shit storm, wasn't it?"

She stood stone still, and said seriously, "That was the most terrifying night of my life."

He matched her demeanor, "Mine too."

She quickly added, "But it wasn't the worst."

He rolled his eyes back, "Do we have time for this now?"

She didn't like how the stillness of the rest of the room caused his deep tones to vibrate through her body. She wanted him to shut up so that she wouldn't have to feel it invading her bones.

But he had never been one to do what she wanted. "So what's the deal with these people? Rival mercs?"

She was offended, "You think mercs would have the gall to take me out? No, these... they're something entirely their own. No paydays here."

Riddick was abruptly forced to shut his eyes as the four membered party entered, but the darkness returned within moments. Mother smiled at the pair of them, "So, going to introduce us?" she asked Kyra.

She sucked on her top lip, then smiled briefly back, "Riddick," her voice had a guarded edge to it, "I'd like you to meet my parents."

x.X.x

The suffocating silence that followed seemed to last forever. Riddick was stunned to say the least. "Parents?" he growled. Now _this_ was some twisted shit.

The woman appeared to be in her mid forties. She'd aged well. Her dark hair was wound in tight curls that bounced just above her shoulders. The two men in black looked older than she did by at least a decade. The structuring of their faces was similar enough to safely say they were closely related. The man in the coat hung back near the door, a cheesy smile stapled permanently to his face. He was most likely in his early thirties.

"What, she never mentioned us?" asked Uncle.

"What a shame. I'm offended, Audrey," said Mother with a pout.

Kyra pursed her lips, "Don't call me that," she warned.

"Audrey?" Riddick cocked his head to the side.

"I said don't call me that!" she snapped at him.

"Yes, we were her parents," Began Mother, ready to tell the tale. She slipped up beside Kyra and leaned casually against her tub, "The only ones she ever knew. And she ran away from us. We gave her a home, clean cloths, nice food, even friends to play with-"

Kyra captured Riddick's eyes and held them. "They took me from my mom, they shut me in a center, they-"

"She was a morphine addict," Father barked, "She didn't care about you. Her entire life centered around her next fix and finding enough money to get it. You became government property at the age of five."

"Yes, government property," continued Mother, reaching out a hand to stroke Kyra's tangled hair. It was an absently affectionate gesture. "But you know you were more to us than that."

"They're leading specialists and technicians in bio-electric engineering and weaponry," Kyra explained, pulling back from Mother's touch. "They used me as some sort of catalyst or something-"

Mother laughed, the sound bubbling high in her throat, "No, dear. You were the variable." She swaggered over to stand next to Riddick, "She's a pure blooded Hellcastian. Do you know what 'Mirror Species' are, Mr. Riddick?"

"Why don't you explain it to me?" he said coolly. "Pretend like you're talking to some one who's been educated in the penal system." He smirked, "On second though, don't pretend."

She looked him up and down, appreciating the not so subtle harness of his muscles as they slid behind his tank and his pants. She'd never get tired of working with a body such as his. She leaned against the lip of his locker, and lightly skimmed her finger tips down his abdomen. "Mirror Species are two ultra-compatible races. They make up for each other's faults and weaknesses, and awaken something in each other that no one else can. It's a beautiful spin mother nature decided to throw on things. It's as if from the beginning of time beings were fated to travel the stars.

"Any way, Hellcastian females mirror Furyan males. Have you heard of Furyans?" He shook his head. "Furyans were a strong people. As a whole they were cunning, reflexive, both physically and intellectually skilled. Now, I say _were_ because, technically speaking, the race no longer exists. Furyans rarely left their home planet, and the government did not trade with near by systems. They also did not appreciate foreign visitors, so not many people knew much about them. They were pretty much ignored for the most part. The rest of the systems viewed Furya rather like one does a child who prefers to crawl and refuses to walk; when they're ready, they'll do it. Eventually they'll come to us. Unfortunately, Furya never got its feet beneath it.

"It is a shame, really. Because of their intergalactic silence no one knew it when the planet was attacked. The Furyans never cried out for help, defiant 'till the end. It was just over thirty years ago. They were massacred. An army of some sorts descended upon them, but were very specific about whom they killed. The men were all killed. The women were practically untouched, with the exception of those who stood in the way, barring the path between the men and the army." She shook her head and laughed dully, "I say 'untouched'. Furyans being what they were- Most of the women stood up to fight.

"And fight they did. Very primitively. Hand to hand combat they were used to, but they were unprepared for the destructive power of the army's technology.

"After the adults were slaughtered it was on to the children. Boys were struck down in their homes, in the parks, every where. If pregnant women were found the solders induced labor. If the child was male, he was strangled with his own cord."

Riddick had been listening intently. Now he looked the woman in the eye, searching.

He didn't know where he came from. His home planet had always been spoken of as if it had no name. A foster mother had explained to him about his attempted strangulation when he was eight. Dumped in a trash bin behind a liquor store. Garbage from the moment he was born.

"I wonder, Riddick," His name rolled off Mother's tongue liquidly, as if she were enjoying the taste of it, "How did you survive?" He didn't answer, and she didn't expect him to.

"Don't know, Riddick?" asked Brother, moving closer. "Then let me enlighten you. A mercenary ship was barreling through the system right about the time the big guns up and left the place. They landed, looking to see what they could scrounge up out of the ashes. They found your poor mother sifting through the trash, desperately trying to find you. She was looking in the wrong bin. Eventually, probably because she was in shock, she just," he shrugged, "Gave up. Not long after she left you started crying, fighting against the noose around your neck. They weren't sure how you accomplished it, but you earned your self enough air to let out a good scream. The mercs dug you out and packed you aboard. They saved your life. Only a hand full of other males escaped."

"Well now, That's the story of Riddick," said Mother, "Maybe we should save Audrey's for later."

"Kyra," he informed her lowly.

"Hmm?"

"Her name is Kyra."

Father turned to her, "Still playing the name game, are we? She always was a creative child. Every other day she wanted to be called something different. She was never satisfied with the name Mother gave her."

Kyra clenched her jaw and swung her face away from their boring eyes. Riddick noticed for the first time that her tense hatred wasn't directed at him in the slightest. For the moment. "You took everything from me. Who I was, who I could have been."

"You would have been a nobody. A no good, spiking piece of gutter refuse."

"At least I wouldn't have been a lab rat!" she shot back.

Mother pulled something from her pocket and held it up in front of Riddick's nose. A micro chip. Her words ignored the object, "Furyans are fiery. But when coupled with a Hellcastian, they become more docile. Normally, pheromones are designed to make a man's blood boil, to send him into an animalistic trance of lust. Hellcastian pheromones sooth a male Furyan. Yes, they still play into his physical desires, but they make him gentle.

"When Hellcastian females hit puberty they are then receptive to males on a new level. They find a man and attach themselves to him. Of course, they aren't aware of it at first. It's something the mind has no control over. The body knows what it wants and reacts in accordance. When the female finally attaches herself to a male, she suddenly begins to produce a new sort of hormone. That's where this little device comes into play." She pulled out a key pad and hit a button. The chip flickered to life. It was internally illuminated by a harsh, red glow. "This detects that change. They were inserted into all of our female variables at the center. When the new hormone is produced the light changes from red to blue."

She hastily unchained Kyra's left arm and rolled her to the side so that the back of her shoulder could be seen by everyone. Mother tapped the skin just below her shoulder blade. "Audrey's is right here." She held up the key pad, her finger hovering over a button, "Any one want to take a guess? Red or blue?" She quickly slammed her finger down. The chip lit up, showing clearly through Kyra's thin human hide. The color was an unmistakable, astounding shade of azure.

* * *

Author's Note: Confused? That's okay, all will be made clear in time. Another chapter should be on its way quickly. 


	14. Hardly Small Talk

Author's Note: Okay, that's the last time I promise something I can't deliver. Truth is, I've had most of this written since before I uploaded the last chapter, but I couldn't finish it because I've been working like a maniac. Thanks for your patience, all. And for those of you wondering about 'No One Around': same deal. Plus, my muse has been dragging her feet when it comes to that one, so...

R&R!

Jak: Yeah, I realize my ff is riddled with an excess of typos. Not to mention, my spelling is atrocious. If it wasn't for spell check... hell, I don't think I'd even attempt something like this. If I can find time, I'll go back through and eliminate as many mistakes as I can from the previous chaps.

Thanks for your enthusiastic reviews, all. Everyone has been wonderful. I look forward to more!

**Chapter Fourteen

* * *

**

"How interesting," said Mother, approvingly.

Uncle left, then returned with a medical kit. Mother re-chained Kyra. Uncle and Father each prepared a syringe, filling them with a clear fluid. "Smaller dose this time." Father explained, "We only need you out for an hour or so. Plenty of time to move you into the main hold."

They weren't easy with the needles, sticking them into their victim's arms as if they meant to run them right through. The drug took effect all most immediately.

It was like coming out of cryo sleep. You know time has past, but you can't feel it. Kyra had felt her head droop, and then suddenly pop up again. She was in a cage now. Perfect.

It was a quaint little space. Not enough room to stand, and not enough room to lay down.

Riddick's cage was only a foot away. He sat with his back to one corner, on top of a small crate, his arms and legs chained apart; it was strangely reminiscent of the way he'd been held in the reckage of the HG after Zeek had been killed.

He was staring at her. She didn't say anything. She stretched the best she could, cracking her neck and popping her shoulders. Her 'parents' hadn't thought it necessary to keep her chained.

She looked back at Riddick when she heard a rumble begin deep in his throat. He wanted to say something, but was holding himself back. "Spit it out," she told him.

"That chip... The guy you-"

"Hey, don't even think on it, all right? It's not you, so it's none of your busness." It made her feel hollow to say it. No, Riddick, it's not you. She thought, some how, if he knew he would pity her. He'd be nicer, fake. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel obligated to do something about it.

"Right. Not me."

"Right. Forget about it."

"So how come you never mentioned these guys before?" He asked, his tone almost accusatory.

"Hmm, lets see," she leaned against the bars, "How did the formal introductions go? Richard B. Riddick. Escaped convict, murderer. Jack B. Badd. Girl, runaway. That was about as close as we got to spilling our guts over the past, wasn't it?" She hugged her knees close to her chest, "It didn't matter back then, where we came from."

He shifted slightly, "Guess not." He cleared his throat, "So what'd they do to you? Experiments?"

"Hell, I donno. Never quite caught wind of their over all hypothesis. The other girls and I had twelve hour week days. They had these four men, each in their own cell. They'd all be about your age now, the oldest maybe five years your senior. Parents'd rotate us girls individually, locking us up with one man for three hours before we were swapped to another one." She heard the slight slack in Riddick's restraints pull taunt. She smiled, "Take it easy. None of them ever hurt us. Most of the time they didn't even talk to us."

"So what was the point?"

"Like I said, never did figure that one out."

"They were Furyans..."

"Seems so. And I'm a friggin' Hellcastian. It doesn't mean anything." She tilted her chin towards the floor, "It doesn't matter where you come from. Only where you go.

"For years that was all they filled my head with. You're a Hellcastian, that means you're supposed to act like this, to act like that. I don't buy into that sort of crap, never did. Eventually I got plain out sick of it. Had to get away and be myself." She reached around to where her dirk should have been. The absence of it's firm density disheartened her. She mourned he loss of her weapons more than she did the loss of her dignity.

Arrogant lines of superiority creased at the corners of his eyes. "You bound what little chest you had, changed your name, became a boy, found your self a pair of goggles, and shaved your head."

She shot him a glare.

"All I'm saying is, you were free and still had a tough time letting the real you out. It was months before I even got a glimpse. Jack wasn't you."

"If she was she wouldn't be dead."

"You're not Kyra either."

She scrambled to her knees, and grasping the bars tight to her chest jutted her jaw forward slightly. If he thought he was qualified to psychoanalyze her, he was sadly mistaken. "How do you know?" she asked evenly. She shook her head, letting out a disgruntled grunt. "You don't know shit," she said quietly.

"Like I said, I got a glimpse. And what I saw was no merc."

"Yeah? Well, you can't see everything, now can you?" she snapped.

"What is your name? Your first one? The one your mother gave you." She didn't answer. "You're real mother."

"You know what, Riddick?" she said crisply, almost cutting off his last words, "If we're going to play twenty questions, how about we start with you?" She squirmed a little, settling herself on he cage floor. "There are some things I want to know, too. I don't care where _your_ name came from or what _your_ family was like, but I do wanna know this: Do you remember the first thing you said to me when I caught you leaving?"

When he didn't respond right away she continued, "Let me remind you of the scene first, maybe that'll jog your memory. Imam's place, four hours before sun up. I couldn't sleep. I knew something was wrong. You made me go to bed early."

_And I made you jump in the shower first, to get the blood off._ The blood of another child.

He didn't need her to paint him a picture, he could recall it all perfectly. He'd lost no time battling with himself over the decision. He knew he had to go that night. It was a horrifying feeling. He was pushing away the only person who had ever seen beyond the 'psychopathic' killer to the man inside. But he had to leave, before she was the one sitting at some prison shrink's desk being informed that she was so psychologically unstable that integration with the rest of the prison's population was dangerous for everyone. He didn't want her to be subjected to taunts of 'monster', 'maniac', '_machine_'. He didn't know what sort of a life she'd have with out him, but he could plainly see what she would have if he stuck around.

"I don't even know what woke me up..."

_I do._ He couldn't resist seeing her one last time. In a way, he was saying good bye. But if he hadn't gone into her room for that moment, if he hadn't bent next to her, if he hadn't put his hand out, she wouldn't have stirred from her peaceful slumber to catch him. He didn't touch her. His fingers hovered over her hand for an instant before he whirled around and left, bounding silently down the stairs. Maybe his shadow fell across her face, disturbing the steady stream of moon light, or maybe she felt the sudden appearance then retraction of his body heat.

"... But I left my bed. Then I was at the landing, and you were at the bottom, only feet from the door."

His heart fell when he heard the soft steps of her bare feet on the wood floor. He froze, unsure what to do. He wanted to keep walking, but that was the coward's way out. He had to face her.

"You turned, taking me in with those _cold_, gray eyes," there was no admiration in her description, "Me in my flimsy little night shirt, and you dressed to run. You remember what you said?" She glowered at him expectantly.

"'I'll be right back,'" he admitted.

"I can't believe you thought I was that stupid. You thought you could lie straight to my face!"

Before the words had even escaped his lips he knew she wouldn't buy it, so he closed his mouth, swallowing down protests and excuses.

"Then, when it sunk in that you couldn't get rid of me that easily, you asked me to come with you."

"Not my fault you said no."

Kyra was flabbergasted, "Yes, yes it is!"

He smiled ever so slightly, reversing the grimace that was threatening to take hold. He shook his head slowly, "Can't blame this one on me."

She did her best to gulp down her venimence, "You're just a big, bad, fucking liar. Was there anything you said that was true? _Anything_?"

"No," he said, skewering them both on the dark sarcasm, "None of it."

Unexpectedly, she laughed. It was laced with real enjoyment, which made Riddick shiver. She stopped suddenly, and offered no explanation. A dreary silence followed. Within minutes, she started up again.

"What?" he grunted, though he was less than eager to join in the joke.

"The irony of ironies," she said with a vicious smile. "_Mercs_. They saved you. You owe your life to the people you hate most. You owe your life to me."

The confidence she placed in the validity of those words made him frown. A frown which deepened into an all out scowl when he connected _hate_ and _me_. "Then we're even," he said through subconsciously clenched teeth.

She laughed again, but with less conviction, "We'll never be even." _We'll always owe each other something. Some debts can never be repaid._


	15. Locks and Keys

Author's Note: Hey! New chap, not much happens but it explains a bit.

traptrogue6: When the light in the chip changes from red to blue it means she's attached herself to a man. Doesn't necessarily mean it's a Furyan... but mirror races are drawn to each other.

* * *

"Do you really believe him to be the one?"

"Of course," Mother replied, scanning the monitor screen in front of her intently. "She never formed an attachment to any of our specimens. And how many Furyan males do you think are left in the univese? Is it possible she crossed paths with more than one free Furyan during her holiday? Yes, but highly improbable. She's commited to Riddick. I have no doubts."

"His eyes," Brother leaned over her shoulder, watching the caged man on the screen with mounting interest, "Are they- ?"

"Natural?" Mother nodded her head curtly, "Quite."

"Really?" he cocked an intruigued eye brow. "I've never seen the like. Do all Furyan's have eyes like that?"

"No." She swiveled her chair around to face him, making him stumble backwards. "Only under certain cercumstances do Furyan eyes develope the shine." She glanced over her shoulder, "I'd be willing to bet he's mystified by his own gaze. Chances are, if he was ignorant of his race, he is ignorant of most of his abilities." She stroked her chin, "I wonder how he felt, watching his eyes glaze over, almost as if with caterax. Must have been terifying.

"He has most likely come up with a story about them. Eyes like that, people are bound to ask questions. He's not the type to admit he doesn't know things about his own body."

"You said there were conditions that had to be met, cercumstances. What are they?" He asked, looking to deflate his engorged curiosity.

"Five seperate experiences must be had for the change to begin, and two more for it to complete its self.

"The first five are extrenal goings on. One must witness an act of greed, vengance, bigotry, lust, and marterdom, each obsessive and cripiling. However, one must only behold these things, not take part in them. This grays the whites of the eyes. It is quite grotesque," she assured him happily, "Makes the eyes appear whithered and dead."

She stood and began to pace. "The final two experiences must be created and controled by the Furyan. In other words, one must purpsefully mean to commit the deeds, even desire to see them play out." She picked a file up from her desk and flipped through it, halting her speach.

After several moments Brother emplored her to continue. "And these deeds? Mother?"

She enjoyed stringing him along. The anxiouse vibrations in his prodding made her smile. "One concerns the heart. He must refuse something he longs for, the object of an obsession, once it is offered to him." She gently laied the file back in its place. "The other," she said carfeully, as if she were about to reveal to him secrets of the Devine, "Concerns the sole. He must commit a useless murder. He must kill for no other reason then to see life lost. With this, the life contamination is complete and the shine is eminnent."

"I see." He clasped his hands behind his back, bending closer to the screen, his nose almost brushing it. "Unsavory characters, those shined ones, hu? Well, I supose a pointless killing would be no problem for our boy here."

She looked thoughtfull for a moment, "No. I supose not," she said, though her words carried little conviction.

"And the energy?" he asked.

"It feeds on experiences, as well."

He stood up, turning to face her just as Father strolled into the office. "What?"

"Every lock has its key, Brother Boy," she sighed.

Brother plopped himself into her vacant chair. "He's had them, though?" She shook her head. "You mean we can't get to it?"

She shook her head again. Father kissed her on the cheek as he reached around her for the file. He exited the room silently. "Not at the moment, any rate."

"Well, it's alright, I supose. We'll force the events upon him and we'll have our weapon in no time."

"It's not so easy," she proclaimed with a biting tone. "He's already gone threw most of the required stages. I can tell from his file. He's almost ready. There's only one more before it is unlocked. But even then, he can't controle it, and we need him to be able to. We can't harness it if we can't call it up at will." He nodded, but didn't undersand where she was taking this. "We don't know what he needs to do to obtain controle."

He pursed his lips, "You mean to tell me that you've been working on this project for over twenty five years and still don't know how to reach your objective?"

"It's not so easy," she repeated. She hissed under her breath. "If we don't find out how to draw it out of him soon... we'll loose funding. Our sponsors have threatened to pull out if we can't provide them with a demonstration by the end of the year.

Brother bit his lip, and asked angrily, "Why wasn't I informed of this before?"

"I shouldn't be telling you now," she said frankly, turning up her nose at him.

He narrowed his eyes at her, his mouth and brow taking on a prominant scowl. "What is the last thing he needs to do to unlock it?"

"It won't be so easy for him, I fear. He needs to openly acknowledge that he loves. Some how- a gesture, a simple satement."

"Will he do it for her?" he asked, nodding at the monitor.

"I have my doubts," Mother admited.

"They sure are chatting it up right now."

Mother pulled at her bottom lip, thinking. "We should transfur them- to a more... intimate location."

* * *

Author's Note: I've never played the game, but I heard that in Escape From Butcher Bay it says Riddick's shine was due to a "spiritual awakening" rather than an operation. Thought I'd explore that a bit. (and that totally explains Kyra's line in the move: "Was there anything you said that was true?" I used to find it odd... after all, just because she couldn't find a doctor to do the job doesn't mean there wasn't one. But I get it now.) 


	16. Cats and Rats

AN: I know. It has literally been years since I've updated this. Thank you all so much for continuing to read, review, and encourage me to continue. I haven't forgotten about this story and I hope to eventually complete it. My pursuit of my own writing and my schooling have been taking up the majority of my life, as they should, but hve left me little time for fan works. Updates may be few and far between- but I'm not letting this go quietly to its grave! (And hopefully the mechanics of my writing have now improved. However, there will continue to be typos, as I have no beta.)

This is short, but I wanted to give you something.

**Chapter Sixteen**_

* * *

_

_Breep_!

A mounted, red light near the ceiling suddenly began flashing distressingly. Riddick didn't even glance up, but Kyra stared at it blatantly.

Suddenly, their cages jerked forward. They were mounted on a conveyer belt.

_Well this is fun_, Kyra heaved at herself.

A panel in the side of the hold slid up, and the belt bore them through it. Riddick held fast and silent, waiting to see. The ride was long, tedious, and a straight shot through the bowels of the rig. The conveyer belt ended in a slope in a new room, effectively depositing first Kyra's cage, then Riddick's. Their bars clanged together as Riddick's cage roughly crashed into hers, sending it sliding across the smooth, black floor to bounce off the opposite wall.

Kyra bumped her head against the bars. "Ouch! Who's the dumb fu-"

"Now, now," tutted Mother's ambient voice. "If you don't behave, we won't let you out."

Kyra searched for the speakers, or the green glow of a working security camera. Riddick searched for new weapons and escape routs. The room was small, but neatly accommodated both of their cages and still left some pacing room. There were no obvious entrances save the rout they had taken. The walls and ceiling were plain and metallic. There was no where to run, no where to hide.

The conveyer belt gave a high pitched screech as it began retracting. A heavy steal door slid into place over the gap they had come through and seamlessly blended with the wall.

"Can you two play nice?" asked Mother, her voice's location still unattainable.

Without waiting for a reply, bars in both cages retracted into themselves, creating little more than doggy doors for their occupants to slither through. The chains still remained tight around Riddick's limbs.

Kyra crawled forth immediately, glad to finally be able to stand and stretch according to her will alone. She walked to and fro for several minutes, contemplating the purpose of her opponent's latest move. Riddick silently watched her, his gaze sharp, like a wild cat stalking its unsuspecting prey. He said nothing.

"Are you cruel, Audrey?"

Kyra stopped in her tracks, lip clenched between her teeth, one eyebrow raised questioningly at the ceiling- the closest to where she perceived Mother's voice to be emanating from.

"Has the outside world made you heartless?"

She leaned against the wall unconcernedly, crossing her arms over her chest in unconscious defiance. "It sure as hell hasn't made me Marry Sunshine."

"What are you doing?" Brother hissed in Mother's ear.

She put her hand over the microphone, "I'm encouraging a little contact." He shook his head at her, confused. She pushed him away impatiently, "You'll see."

Riddick cocked his head to the side. Mother was about to try some manipulation brain-fuck voodoo on his little merc. _Let's see how you do_, he thought, focused on the woman before him. She was avoiding his eyes. _Let's see if you fall into their net. _A twinge of unexpected excitement kicked at the base of his scull.

"You are cruel," Mother said, "Are you willing to let your friend remain where he is? Bound and hurting while you stretch your legs?

"Fucker has it coming," Kyra mumbled, her head angled towards the floor- literally a little girl mouthing off behind her mother's back. "He's a real slick shit," she said loudly, lifting her face, "He can take a little punch and pull."

Mother frowned from her perch in the booth. "Are you angry with him, dear?"

"That transparent, am I?" she scoffed. "I don't know what the hell you're playing at-"

"Nothing. You have the means to unlock him and alleviate his pain, I just thought you should know that."

Kyra tossed her hair, "Sure, like this isn't some game to get me to… to- whatever!"

No reply.

"If you're so concerned," she railed, "Let him go yourself! It's no skin off my nose if he rots in there."

Silence.

"Fine, _Mother_. Leave him." She slumped against the wall.

Mother looked pleased with herself. She turned to Brother. "Those restraints have chips in them similar to the one in her shoulder. They can detect her new hormone. The only way they'll unlock is if she's touching them.

"Convenient," Brother nodded his approval.

"That's technology for you, my boy."


End file.
